The Burden of Memory
by Digitallace
Summary: Draco Malfoy has woken in muggle London, unaware of his name or his past. When Harry finds him he is healthy, content and preparing to marry a stranger. While trying to help Draco recover his memory, Harry falls in love with him and oddness ensues.
1. War Victims

Authors Note: This fic was written per a request from Jay FicLover. I love how specific you were with what you wanted to see in the story. Hopefully I can meet all of your expectations. Look out for other stories being posted, I finished Divided this morning, and posted the first chapter of one of my other new stories - Expensive Disaster

Chapter 1: War Victims

He groaned.

His head was splitting, his throat was sore and his body ached all over.

The light all around him was too bright, even through his pale eyelids. He didn't know where he was, and he was afraid to open his eyes. Thoughts whirred around in his mind, scraps of images, but nothing made sense; he couldn't even recall his own name.

All he could remember were a pair of brilliant green eyes, bright as fresh cut grass. Outside of that everything was a blur. He thought he could recall fire, and rubble. His mind brought to the forefront strange looking creatures and men in black robes, but all that was nonsense, just the nightmares of a crazy man.

He opened his eyes slowly, casting a cautious glance around the room.

A hospital. So he was sick, or injured somehow. A slight stretching of his body confirmed that all his limbs were there and fully intact, just sore. A glance down showed a bandage lanced around a pale hand. His hand, though it was only vaguely familiar to him.

He blinked again as the door flew open. A portly woman in crisp white clothing came bustling though the doorway. She took one look at him and gasped. "Well, Hullo," she exclaimed. "Wide awake I see. Well it's about time, you've been catching up on your beauty sleep for quite sometime now."

She had a pleasant smile, and was obviously a medical practitioner of some kind. Her name badge said 'Nurse Rose'. "How long?" he rasped, wondering if that was how his voice was supposed to sound.

She looked at him thoughtfully for a moment. "I should really get Dr. Evans in here to go over the particular's," she said finally. "I wouldn't want to overload you with too much information."

With that she left, pulling a clipboard from the end of the bed and walking back out into the corridor.

--

When he woke up again he was being watched from a chair in the corner. He tried to sit up, but found that it hurt him too badly. The man from the chair paced over to the bed and placed a calming hand on his arm.

"Good morning, son," the man from the chair said. His nametag said Dr. Evans. So _this_ would be the person to interrogate.

"How long have I been here?" he asked.

The doctor winced slightly, but tried to hide it. "A little over six months. You've been in a coma, and we had all but given up hope. It's good to see you awake, Mr.-"

He drew a blank, still not able to recall his own name. "I… I don't know my name."

The doctor nodded and opened his chart, scribbling notes. He didn't seem to think that it was odd for him not to remember his name. "Tell me the last thing you _can_ recall."

Thinking it over, he almost mentioned his weird snippets of nightmares, but decided against it. "I don't really remember anything. Everything is foreign to me, even my own body… but some things are also familiar."

"For instance?" the doctor asked.

He took a deep breath. "I can tell this is a hospital, but I cannot tell if I've ever been here before. I can recognize some things in this room, but that for instance," he said, pointing at a large black box in the corner, "has me completely baffled. I don't even know what the use of it is."

Laughing the doctor walked over to stand under the black box. "This is a television. Are you saying you cannot recall seeing a television before?"

He shook his head, and regretted the movement instantly.

The doctor sighed and made his way back over to the bed. "Well, amnesia is quite common in coma patients and as time passes, more and more memories should resurface. However, this is an odd case, the fact that you can remember some things, but not others, though not unheard of… it's rare. A selective Amnesia."

"For now, we'll keep a watch on you here. If you recall anything, your name or a family member or friend you would like us to contact, just let one of the nurses know." The doctor smiled warmly.

The chart was placed back at the base of his bed. "Don't be startled if the nurses call you Dorian Gray, that's just the name my daughter came up with when you came in. She watched me examine you, and saw your eyes. The name caught on."

This confused him but he nodded. He felt better having a name, no matter what it was.

--

Harry stretched out like a wild cat, trying to shake the sleep from his bones. He had a lot to do that day in order to finish moving into his new flat.

It felt like he had moved a dozen times since the war, but that was probably because he had. The minute he felled the Dark Lord, Harry left Hogwarts. He disappeared during the celebrations that night, feeling more like mourning than revelry.

So many people lost, so many people he loved dead because he just wasn't fast enough.

He had killed Voldemort that night, but in his own twisted way, the creature had won the war waged against Harry's soul. The creature and the deeds from the war still plagued his mind, and his dreams.

He only returned for a month or so, hoping he could put everything behind him. He started Auror training, but it just reminded him too much of everything he lost, so he disappeared again, moving from place to place around muggle London.

Now he had moved again, to a beautiful little flat in the heart of Kensington, but he was still on the run. Running from his friends, from his fans and from the Ministry.

He had to keep moving, because the wizarding world wouldn't let him rest. His last letter to Hermione had given her too many clues and before he knew it, Ministry owls were on his doorstep.

He didn't know why they wouldn't just respect his right to privacy.

Ron seemed to get it at least. Harry would occasionally show up, wearing some odd glamour, at the Weasley Wizard Wheezes store in Diagon Alley and take him out for a drink, catch him up on everything.

Hermione was a tougher bird though. She hated that he was hiding and did everything she could to keep him there on the one and only time he attempted to visit _her_. She even used magic against him to get him to stay. Now she only received letters, and the occasional story from Ron. Harry bet she was livid about that.

Yawning, Harry padded to the front room. His new house was filled with boxes and the movers would be arriving soon enough with more. This living room had a large fireplace and he decided the place after this would too, that way he could just link them together and floo his boxes over. It would be a lot less strenuous.

--

Harry was brushing his teeth when a sharp buzzing alerted him that the movers had arrived. He finished quickly and raced downstairs to meet them. He was halfway down the first flight of steps when he spotted a large box with burly legs behind it already making its way up the stairs.

He pressed himself against the banister to get out of the way. "Hey, going up to number 32?" he asked the mover.

The man grunted and kept walking. Harry squeezed past him and propped his door open. "Just set them anywhere," he said and took off back down to meet the others.

A petite girl met him at the bottom of the landing. She had dark brunette hair with a hint of red and glittering green eyes. Harry smiled as he saw her, thinking she reminded him of pictures he had of his mother.

"Harry Potter I presume," she asked, extending her hand for him to shake.

Harry nodded and took her small hand. It appeared from the look of things that she had let the movers into the building in Harry's absence. "You live in the building too then?" he asked her.

She nodded meekly. "Number 31, right across from you. I noticed you yesterday but I was in too big a hurry to get to the hospital. I'm normally not so rude."

Harry's heart squeezed lightly at the mention of the hospital. "I'm sorry, is a relative sick or something?" Harry asked, and then began berating himself. "Uhg, sorry, that's really none of my business, and I've only just met you… it's just that I can sympathize and all-"

She cut him off with a laugh. "You're sweet, but no, my father works there and I'm interning for him over the summer. Hope to follow in his footsteps one day."

Harry sighed. "Medicine is a noble profession. A good choice indeed."

"Yes, I think so too. What is it you do, Mr. Potter?" she asked.

"Please, call me Harry. I'm… er in between things at the moment," he replied laughing. "I used to be an Aur… er in law enforcement, but I just moved here, so we'll see what's in store for me now."

She nodded and smiled warmly. "So you were a constable then?"

Harry blushed and shook his head. This was the worst part of living in muggle London, having to make up plausible lies to tell the people you met, things to explain the last seven years or so of your life. "Not exactly, more like _special_ services. Hush, hush and all that," he said with a mysterious wink.

The young girl giggled and swatted his arm lightly. "I'll bet your having one over on me. You look too young to be in any group like that."

She was smart this one; he would have to be careful. "They got me right out of school, but I got disenchanted with it pretty quickly, so I left."

"Ah, well, I suppose that makes sense. So are you a bit of a genius to have them scooping you up out of high school?" she asked, playfully.

Harry grinned. "Something like that. I'm not the type who likes to be used by the government though."

"Oh, the government eh?" she winked again. "You've been holding out on me. Did you get to meet the Queen?"

Laughing Harry shook his head. "No, nothing like that."

A burly man with a box he couldn't see over was about to crash into the girl. Harry leapt over and pulled her out of the way, pressing her against the row of little metal mailboxes. "Quick reflexes," she panted, trying to laugh, but still a little out of breath. "Maybe you weren't lying after all."

Harry rolled his eyes and smiled at her, removing himself from pressing so close against her body. "So you never told me _your_ name."

She blushed and giggled. "No, I suppose _not_. My name is Lara." She said as the pointed to a mailbox labeled L. Evans. Harry's breath caught in his throat as he looked at the mailbox with his mother's name.

"Evans?" he asked dumbly.

She nodded slowly, her eyebrows knit into a confused look.

"You wouldn't by chance know a Lily or Petunia Evans?" he asked softly, not sure what he preferred her answer to be. On the one hand he might have a family member alive that didn't loathe him, and on the other hand he didn't want to have to leave behind another person he cared about when he had to run again. Not to mention keeping secrets was never his forte.

She smiled brightly at him. "Petunia is my Aunt. Her name is Dursley now. She's my father's sister. Lily was my other aunt, but I'm afraid she died the year I was born, tragic car accident, so I never met her."

Harry took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Did your father ever tell you who Lily married?"

Lara seemed to think about it for a while before nodding. "Yes, he did. It was a man named James, someone she went to school with. James… Pott-" She cut her sentence short and her eyes went wide. "You mean to tell me-"

"Lily was my mum. I'm your cousin," Harry said with a soft smile.

She practically beamed at him and threw her arms around his neck. "Oh, that's just wonderful news. Wait till I tell father!" she exclaimed.

--

Authors Note: As always please review. It makes me feel warm and fuzzy to see lots of notes in my inbox. lol


	2. Bit of Wood

Authors Note: So this morning this fic seems to be winning out. lol. I have new chapters for all of them, so for all of you who are reading all 4 fics, don't worry, they will all be updated soon. cheeky grin This one and Expensive Disaster look like they'll be the longest fics out of the 4, although I have several twists and turns planned out for all of them. If you haven't already, check out my website or my livejournal **/digitallace** for header **art **to accompany each fic. I even have art for the oneshots up there.

**Chapter 2 Bit of Wood**

"Potter you say?" the man with reddish brown hair sitting across from him asked, his face a mask of skepticism.

Harry nodded to the Dr., his uncle, and tried not to let the scrutiny get to him. "Yes, I'm the son of James and Lily Potter, your sister Lily Evans," he said plainly, and for the fourth time since Lara introduced them.

They were sitting in a crowded hospital cafeteria, but no one was paying them any attention. "Can you prove any of this?" he asked.

"Well," Harry started, "aside from my eyes, which are my mums, I look mostly like my dad. You could always ask Petunia though. She and Vernon raised me till I was eleven."

His eyes flickered to the scar on Harry's forehead for a moment and Harry's heart clenched. "I can also tell you, that I know for a fact that my parents didn't die in a car crash," Harry finished at last.

Dr. Evans eyes went wide and he spared a small glance for his daughter, who was over at the vending machines getting a juice. "Have you told her any of this?" the Dr. hissed.

"Merlin, no. You're her father; it's up to you if you want me to tell her about magic and whatnot. I will warn you however, I'm a terrible liar, so if for any reason she asks me outright, not that it's likely mind you, I _will_ tell her."

The Doctor nodded. "That's plenty fair I suppose. I really need to think about all this."

"Can I ask you something?" Harry asked and the Doctor nodded. "I can sort of understand why you have never heard of me, with my being in mortal danger most of my life, but why have I never heard of _you_?"

Dr. Evans winced slightly. "I'm actually only your mother's half brother. We share the same father. I lived with them mostly until Lily got her… letter. That was the same year I started University, so I'm afraid I lost touch after that. Lily was away most of the year and so was I, and I never really got on with Petunia. She was a bitter pill to take, especially once we all found out your mother was special."

Harry nodded, he knew all about the resentment his Aunt had for his mother. "Did you know about me?" he asked softly.

"I did. Once I found out about Lily, I tried to see you but Petunia refused. She and I hadn't spoken for years before that and… well she said if I didn't care to see you when Lily was alive, then I had no right to see you then," he replied, rubbing his brow as if to fight off a headache. "I conceded the fact then, though now I realize I should have pushed the issue. I had only just had Lara that year though, and I had started a new residency here at the hospital… so my life was a little hectic."

"I understand," Harry said resignedly. From what he could see so far he would have far preferred a place in his household rather than the Dursley's but what's past was past.

"Your mother and I were very close up until she got her letter though. She was a very sweet and bright girl. From her letters she made it seem as though she wanted to go into a field like mine, only in your world. She mentioned being a mediwitch or a healer," he whispered the last words, glancing around quickly to see if anyone had heard him.

Harry beamed at him. He had never known what his mother's career plans had been; no one had ever mentioned them. "I don't suppose you still have any of those letters?"

The Doctor returned his smile. "I'm sure I do somewhere. I'm a bit of a pack rat… never throw anything away. Lara gets onto me all the time for it."

"What about your wife? Could I possibly meet her? I don't really have any living family aside from the Dursley's and I'd rather not count them to be honest," Harry said with a grimace.

"I'm afraid my wife died almost a year ago," he started. His face fell into a hard expression. "It was odd, and I don't remember much about it… the whole incident is a bit fuzzy."

"I'm sorry," Harry replied quickly. "I didn't know."

Dr. Evans shook his head. "No, there really was no reason you should. It's quite alright."

Harry looked up to see Lara making her way back over to their table so he shot the doctor a pointed look. "As I was saying, I just moved here from Dover, but before that I lived in Mayfair," Harry continued as if the touchy topics had never been addressed.

"Mayfair is lovely," the doctor replied as Lara sat down. "I tried to get Lara to find a flat there, even offered to pay for it, but she wanted a place closer to mine. She's stubborn this one," he said with a grin and a light finger jab to her shoulder.

Lara laughed. "Well, I'm glad I didn't listen, otherwise I never would have run into Harry. Plus my flat in Kensington is closer to the hospital then anything in Mayfair would have been."

The doctor took the last bite of his soup and pushed it away. "Well, I really should be checking on Mr. Gray," he said as he got up from the table.

"Oh! He's the patient I mentioned that woke up from a six month coma with selective amnesia," she said to Harry. "Do you want to meet him?"

"Er… sure. If it's okay with Dr. Evans, that is," Harry said, looking up at his uncle. The thought of this prestigious and polite man being in some way related to him made Harry hopeful for his future. Maybe he could settle into the muggle world and have a real family.

"I see no problem with it, but please Harry, call me Henry… or at least uncle," the doctor said with a wink.

Harry beamed and followed his new relatives from the cafeteria. Lara was chatting along about her father's patient as they made their way down the gleaming white corridors. Harry's shoes squeaked against the laminate floor and the sound made him cringe.

"Father let me examine him when he came in. They found him in an alley by King's Cross Station. He looked like he had been in a fire. He was pretty banged up. I named him Dorian Gray, after the novel you know? He's very… well handsome could describe him, but really he's more pretty than handsome. I thought because of his gray eyes and because I could see him primping in a mirror easily enough," she said with a giggle, "though since he's woken I'm not even sure he's asked for one, so maybe he isn't so vain after all. It's still a fitting name though, because his eyes are really quite breathtakingly gray. I've never seen anything like it."

Harry wondered briefly if he sounded like Lara did when he babbled nervously. He also wondered if like him, she would want someone to stop her. He resolved to ask once he got to know her better. Instead of making a big deal out of it, he just nudged her lightly with his shoulder and grinned.

She laughed and nodded, running her fingers along her lips like a zipper. She nudged him back with her own shoulder, but with more force than Harry thought she intended, because his two left feet sent him stumbling in the way of a supply cart. He narrowly avoided it but ended up tripping and sliding along the tile.

Henry looked at him with concern, but a look to Lara held only barely contained amusement. "Look, your klutzy just like me. We must be related," she said with a laugh.

Harry grinned and stood and brushed himself off, shooting Henry a reassuring look. The doctor looked just as concerned and Harry realized why the moment Lara walked up to him, her hand extended, holding out his wand.

"I think you dropped this," she said, looking curiously at the slick piece of wood. "What is it?"

Harry went pale and Henry didn't look so well either. "Er… I collect… bits of wood, special looking pieces. This is one from my collection… and…" Harry's voice trailed off.

"You collect wood?" Lara asked skeptically. "Why isn't it in your flat then?"

Harry's eyes flicked up to Henry, who looked mortified, but equally confused as to what Harry should tell his daughter. "Well… funny thing that. I found it on the steps when I was on my way to meet you here… it must have fallen out of one of the boxes. I was in too big a hurry to run it all the way back upstairs so I just shoved it in my pocket."

Lara looked on the verge of laughter. "So you collect wood, and this bit fell out into the corridor when you moved, and you just found it laying about. Is that the story?" she asked pointedly.

"Er… yes?" Harry was baffled. Never had he needed to explain his wand to a muggle. He'd been very careful to conceal it before.

She narrowed her eyes and gave him a withering look. "Funny, because it looks like a magic wand."

Both men gaped at her and looked back and forth at each other for a few moments, trying to decide what to do. "I think I should go… I have a lot of unpacking to do," Harry mumbled and turned, practically running from the hospital. He hated to leave Henry to explain things, but it was _his_ daughter. He made it clear that he didn't want Harry to tell her about the magical world, but it seemed she already knew enough about it to justify her unlikely conclusion.

He decided to head home and wait it out, hoping he hadn't already made a bad impression on his new family.

--

Author's note. Instead of holding Faeries hostage, I'm holding chapters hostage. lol


	3. Affections

Authors Note: Thanks go out to my beta's - the ever present Alexandra and my newest addition Shannon! Thanks so much both of you.

Chapter 3 Affections

His head was still throbbing, but Dorian could feel the difference already from the potions in the large clear sacks by his bed, threading into his arm with a sharp needle. Potions? No, that was crazy person talk again. Medicine, Dr. Evans had called it… painkillers more specifically.

His door opening drew his attention to the new people entering his room. The doctor he knew well, but the pretty young girl at his side was someone he had only seen briefly and never spoken to directly. She looked to be his age, and he could tell from the way she spoke to the older man that he was her father.

"Mr. Gray, I don't think that you've ever been formally introduced to my daughter. This is Lara, Lara this is, of course, Mr. Gray," he said coolly, though Draco could sense and twinge of nerves beneath his calm exterior.

The girl, Lara smiled at him, but she too seemed to be preoccupied. "Mr. Gray, it's a pleasure to finally be introduced."

"I heard that you were the one to name me. I must say the way your father speaks of you I thought you to be much younger," Dorian said with a cheeky grin.

Lara blushed and walked over to his bedside. "Father would like to think that I'm much younger and unable to handle important information," she said sending a scathing look toward the doctor, "but I assure you I am perfectly capable."

"I believe you," Dorian replied, watching the girl closely. She really was very lovely, long red hair, soft pale face and those eyes. The brilliant green eyes reminded him of something… someone. He struggled to remember a face to go along with those eyes but came up short. It was infuriating. The connection to them felt so important, only it was just out of reach.

"Have I met you before? Before I arrived here, I mean?" Dorian asked her.

She shook her head and he frowned. He hoped that perhaps she took an extra interest in him because they had something in their past together. Perhaps it was still the case only she wasn't allowed to tell him. Maybe that was why father and daughter seemed so upset when they arrived.

"How are you feeling today, Mr. Gray," the doctor asked, interrupting Dorian's puzzle solving.

"I still have a headache, but your po- medicine is working. It's not as bad as yesterday," he said honestly. "All my other scrapes and bruises seem to be mostly healed," he added.

"Good, good. How are the nurses treating you?" he asked, jotting down several notes on his chart, his daughter still shooting him impatient looks.

"The nurses are all too kind," Dorian replied. "They are quick to answer when I call and fulfill my every whim."

The doctor chuckled. "Yes, that would be the case. You're a bit of a celebrity around here."

"Not to mention handsome," Lara added and then looked mortified that she had said so out loud. "Sorry," she muttered.

Dorian laughed. "It's okay. Flattery will get you everywhere," he joked.

Lara blushed again and her father cleared his throat. "Well, unless there is anything else, Mr. Gray, I believe my daughter has some things she wishes to review with me before she leaves for the day."

He reached out his hand for Lara's and placed a chaste kiss against her palm. "No sir, I think that cover's everything," Dorian replied. "Have a good day off," he added to Lara, who scurried from the room, red faced.

--

Not even two hours after Harry arrived back at the flat there was a sharp knock on his door. He cringed at the sound and procrastinated as long as he could before going to open it. Part of him hoped it was only FedEx and that there would be a white package on his doorstep and not an irate cousin.

It was the latter.

Lara stood in his doorway looking mildly irritated but otherwise amused. "Nice of you to open the door, finally. What were you doing in there?" she asked.

"Er… making tea. Would you like some?" Harry asked tentatively.

"I would love some. May I come in?" she asked, indicating blatantly that Harry was blocking her path and he swiftly moved aside.

"How do you take it?" he called from the kitchen while Lara sat in a burgundy armchair by the window.

"Milk and a dab of honey," she replied.

Harry grinned to himself. That was precisely the way he preferred his own tea. "Sorry I ran off on you like that," he began, eager to try out his new excuse. "I remembered that a friend was supposed to call to make sure I got all settled." It wasn't entirely a lie. In truth Ron was supposed to call, though not until later that evening… and it would be a floo call, but she didn't need to know any of that.

"Oh, and did your friend call?" she asked politely.

Harry feigned irritation in his voice. "No, drat it all. I left for nothing. That's Ron for you I guess."

She made a noncommittal noise but said nothing else. Harry brought in the two teacups and handed the first to Lara and then took a seat in the armchair across from her. They were still surrounded by towers of boxes. Harry didn't want to unpack too quickly now that he and Lara were getting close, because he didn't want it to look too suspicious. A normal muggle bachelor might never unpack completely.

"So this friend," she asked, "is he a wizard too?"

Harry sputtered and tea dribbled down his chin. "A what?"

Lara grinned from ear to ear. "I know you're a wizard, Harry," she said simply. "I overheard a conversation my parents had about it a few years ago. None of it really made sense until I saw the wand."

A million questions ran through Harry's mind as he sought to comprehend what she just said. "That's wasn't a wand," was all he was able to come up with.

Her look went from jolly to stern within seconds. "Harry, please don't treat me like I'm mental. Father told me everything after you left."

"He did?" Harry asked, eyes wide.

She nodded. "Not that he knows a lot about it, just what he remembered from your mum."

"Well. I guess that means I don't have to continue living in boxes," he said with a resigned smile and flicked his wand toward the offending brown cardboard and sent his things flying through the flat.

When he turned back to look at Lara she was slack jawed and watching the things zip around in a whirr. "Not prepared for a demonstration just yet?" Harry asked, chuckling lightly.

Lara swallowed thickly, not removing her eyes from any of the objects flying past her head. "No this is okay, just unexpected. I thought you would be more stubborn about it," she laughed.

Harry laughed too. "I usually am… but you're family. It's perfectly safe for you to know. Plus if you try to expose our kind I can just obliviate you," he added with a wicked grin.

She laughed nervously. "So what else can you do with that thing? Can you clean my flat?" she asked excitedly.

"I could…" Harry said, seeming to ponder over the idea. "But I think it would be more fun to do this," he said, aiming his was at Lara and muttering a few glamour spells. Suddenly her hair was short and blonde and her makeup was outrageously dramatic.

She didn't seem to notice what he did, which made Harry laugh even harder. "Mirror," he rasped between fits of chuckles.

She ran from the room and he could hear her scream from the loo. Harry was practically rolling with fits of laughter when she returned, demanding he change her back.

After calming himself enough to get the spells right, he fixed what he had done to Lara's face and hair. She was a good sport about it all and listened intently as Harry told her all about living with the Dursley's and the first trip to Diagon Alley, and Hogwarts and his friends. He told her a little about Voldemort, but didn't talk much about the war. It was hard enough to talk to people who had been there with him. Explaining it from scratch was far too tiresome.

As it was she was Lara was still there several hours later when the fireplace flared green and a red headed boy poked his head through the embers.

"Ron!" Harry exclaimed.

Lara turned around with a fright as she saw the disembodied head in the fireplace. Ron took one look at her and was about to end the fire call but Harry stopped him. "It's okay Ron, this is the cousin I mentioned yesterday."

"You told her?" he asked incredulously.

Harry nodded sheepishly. "Technically her father did. I just filled in some of the blanks."

Ron pulled his head back, effectively ending the floo call, but a moment later he was standing him Harry's living room, covered in a light dusting of soot.

He extended a grimy hand out to Lara, whose eyes were still on the verge of popping free of her face. "Nice to meet you, I'm Ron Weasley," he said with a gracious bow.

She flushed slightly and took his hand. "I'm Lara Evans," she replied. "I had no idea you could travel through fireplaces…" her voice trailed off as she looked back and forth from the fireplace to Ron standing in front of her.

"You didn't tell Mione how to reach me did you?" Harry asked quickly. He wouldn't forgive her if she made him repack again so suddenly. It would have been the quickest time yet that she had Ministry officials on his doorstep.

"Course not, mate. I know better than that. I never even told her that I was calling you. I don't even know if she's aware you left the last place," Ron replied.

"So how is that going then? You and Mione?" Harry asked. They had been trying to date each other the last time he paid a visit to Ron, but things had looked grim for any potential relationship according to Ron.

It didn't go unnoticed to Harry that Ron's eyes flicked down to Lara before he answered. "I think that's a conversation for another time. Let's just say it's a non-issue," he replied at last.

Harry took that to mean that his two best friends were no longer seeing each other. Not sure what else to say about it, Harry went and put on another pot of tea. He could hear the faint giggling from the living room and knew Ron had turned on his charm for his cousin.

He guessed that if he couldn't join the Weasley family by marrying Ginny, then maybe Ron could help make that marriage connection and join the two families together. Harry shook his head. There was no reason to jump to such things. He had only just met Lara and his cousin was very busy with her career. A relationship was probably the last thing she had on her mind.

Authors Note: Please review. I don't want to hurt any of these innocent chapters


	4. Patients

Uhg! Sorry for the late post tonight. I was having issues ALL DAY! So better late than never right? so I was super productive today, as was my awesome beta alexandra. (I had to bow to her awesomeness) So I'll be uploading a NEW STORY tonight. lol. So look for it Memoirs of a Male Escort coming to an inbox near you.

Chapter 4 Patients

It had been a couple weeks since he first met Lara, and Harry couldn't be happier. She was brilliant, funny and kind. They made a point to spend as much time together as possible to make up for lost time during their childhood. Harry had finally told her more about the war and his own part in it. She was a good listener and had advised him that he couldn't keep running from his past and that eventually he would have to step back into the wizarding world and face everyone.

Harry thought she sounded a little too much like Hermione, but he told her he was content for the time being, but that when it was right, he promised to go back.

He was supposed to meet her for lunch at the hospital and was almost excited to meet the amnesia patient she had been talking about incessantly for the last several weeks. He waved to the receptionist and made his way up to the third floor.

The elevator opened with a ding and Harry skipped over to the nurse behind the counter. "Good afternoon, Harry," she cooed. She was usually the head nurse on staff when he came to visit his cousin. She was a pleasant woman with chocolate brown eyes and dark blonde hair.

"I don't suppose you would tell me where I can find Lara?" he asked with a grin.

She laughed at Harry's enthusiasm. She had thought Harry and Lara were dating until his cousin set her straight. Now the woman seemed to be after him for herself. "Now Harry, why would I tell you that? You'll just go chasing after her and then I'll be all alone here."

Harry smiled and refrained from rolling his eyes. He didn't feel like the type of guy women should flirt with. "Beth, you know it's not like that. I can always come back and visit after lunch," he offered. He always did because she always politely declined. It was a routine by now.

"She's down in Mr. Gray's room of course," she told him. "She spends most of her time with him these days, when she's not with you of course. She gets the attention of all the handsome men," Beth added wistfully.

Harry chuckled and said good-bye, leaving the flirty woman at her post, and headed toward room 309. He had the room number memorized, because Lara was, as Beth had said, almost always there when he came to visit.

Unlike normal however, he actually made it to the room. Usually she met him in the corridor before he reached it, having anticipated his arrival. He made a quick scan of the room housing the patient he had heard so much about.

Supposedly this guy was supermodel gorgeous, and very sweet. Both Lara and her father gushed about how good-natured Mr. Gray was, especially considering his condition. Henry talked about the man like he was a long lost son, and Lara's eyes went a little hazy whenever she mentioned his name.

The first bed was empty, and there was a curtain pulled around the second bed. "Lara," he called, not wanted to intrude if, as he suspected, something other than a doctor patient relationship was blooming between his cousin and Mr. Gray.

She peeked out from behind the curtain and smiled when she saw him standing in the doorway. "Harry come here, I have someone I want you to meet," she said, gesturing for him to come behind the curtain.

Harry's jaw nearly dropped open as he took in the man on the bed. He was thin and pale and looking up at Harry with disdain dripping from every feature. He couldn't believe that the man lying there, looking like he wanted to kill Harry was the man that Lara and Henry were so fond of. The man Lara acted as though she would one day marry, and he certainly looked like no son that Henry could have.

Frankly this man was too old.

"Er, nice to meet you at last Mr. Gray," Harry stammered.

Lara chuckled beside him. "Harry, this isn't Dorian. This is Mortimer, he's been a regular of mine since my internship began," she laughed.

"Are you really dating this idiot, Lara? You know you could just leave him for me," the old man rasped.

"Mortimer, this is my cousin, Harry. We're not dating, so you don't have to worry," she told him with a wink.

The old man gave her a cheeky grin and his face softened a bit toward Harry. "So you're the new long lost relative my Lara tells me about, hmm?"

Harry nodded. "Yes, sir. We only accidentally ran into one another a couple weeks ago, now were practically inseparable," he joked.

She hooked her arm though Harry's and nodded in agreement. "Mortimer, Harry's taking me out for lunch, can I sneak you anything when I get back?" she asked conspiratorially.

"Nah, I don't want to get you in trouble with your pops. I'll let one of the other nurses take the heat," he chuckled.

Lara winked at him again and led Harry away from the room and back to the elevator. "Did you really think that Mortimer was Mr. Gray?" she asked, not bothering to hide her amusement.

Harry shrugged. "How was I supposed to know? It was his room and Beth said you were with him. You've never really told me what he looks like except the fact that he's dreamy," he said the last in a perfectly wistful impression of Lara. "Whose to say you don't find wrinkles and liver spots sexy," he finished, laughing when Lara slapped his arm roughly.

"You're incorrigible," she grumbled as they got onto the elevator and rode it down to the main floor.

"So where is your lover boy today? Don't tell me he's already been released?" he asked. Hoping for Lara's sake that she was still able to see him everyday.

She shook her head and blushed slightly. "No, they took him in for a CT scan. They only just wheeled him out before you came in, you might have even walked right past him," she mused.

"Did something happen, is he okay?" Harry concern for the man he had never even met surprised him, but he justified that it was only because Lara liked him so much.

Lara laughed again. "It's routine when a patient exhibits mental blocks like amnesia. Other than having no real memories of his whole life, he seems to be in tip top shape," she replied, seemingly disgusted that they hadn't been able to help him recover any memories yet.

"Still no luck then?" he asked.

She shook her head and looked dejected. "No. The most we've been able to do is cause him nightmares," she said, looking pained.

"Nightmares?"

"He's told me that he has these dreams of a man with a reptile-like face, and a menacing group of people in long black robes. But that doesn't seem so weird, because I've had those same nightmares ever since my mother died. It must be a common side effect of trauma. He probably lost someone very close to him and that's why he's subconsciously blocking his memories," she added nonchalantly.

Harry paled and looked at her critically. "It sounds like your having dreams about Death Eaters, Lara."

She laughed heartily. "Harry, that's ridiculous. I'm no witch, and I've never even seen a Death Eater. Why would I be having nightmares about them?"

He didn't have an answer for her, but something still felt off. They finished their lunch with more uplifting stories, like how Harry wrote to Hermione and how he was planning to visit her soon. Lara told Harry that Beth had asked about him several times that morning, which only served to make Harry squirm.

Lara however thought it was brilliant and said she was going to set the two of them up on a double date with her and Mr. Gray as soon as he was released. Harry's response was something about making sure he kept Mr. Gray quite sick in order to avoid such a date.

--

"You missed Harry again," Lara said as she made her way to his bedside.

Mr. Gray grimaced. The name seemed so familiar to him, Harry Potter she had said, but nothing came to him. He also didn't like the way she talked about him with such admiration. He knew they were related, but there was something about this girl that made him want her all to himself.

"It's the eyes," he would constantly tell himself, the same captivating green eyes that haunted his dreams. She and her father had been so good to him, and she was obviously smitten, so why not indulge her. Her father had even made mention of putting Dorian up at his own place once he was released, if no family or friends ever came to claim him before then.

He often wondered just where his family and friends were. Surely they would be looking for him. Did he already have a girlfriend or a wife? Judging by the way people in the hospital treated him he was sure to have lots of friends.

Was he so far from home that no one thought to look for him in this particular hospital? Did something happen to his family to make them unable to locate him? All these questions were a terrible stress on his already pounding headache.

Then Lara came in with her shining green eyes and he began feeling a little better.

"Marry me," He blurted it before he could even think of anything else to say or even an explanation for what he did say.

She just chuckled and looked at him with an amused expression. He could read a hint of sadness in her eyes though, and it was that, which made him press forward. "I'm serious," he said.

Lara patted him on the head like a child. "Dorian, I would be taking advantage if I said yes. You have no idea what's in store for you when you leave here. You may already be engaged for all you know," she added.

"I don't care," he replied. "You've taken such good care of me, you really care _about_ me. Your father feels like my own… you must at least consider it," he finished at last.

She laughed and nodded. "Fine, I'll think it over," she said with an amused grin.

He didn't like that she didn't take him seriously, but he respected that she wasn't the type to leap into such a huge decision. He liked to think that if he knew what his type was, that she would be it.

--

Author's note: The title was to indicate the obvious, in that it was about hospital patients, bt also that you all need to have "patience" in waiting for the reveal. I am the mistress of suspense. lol


	5. Family Dinner

Authors Note: Many thanks go out to my brilliant beta Alexandra.

**Chapter 5 Family Dinner**

"He _what_?" Harry shouted, nearly spilling his tea.

"Calm down, Harry. I'm sure he wasn't serious," she replied levelly.

"Calm down? Calm down? This memory-less freak is asking my cousin – who he just met – to marry him and you want me to calm down?" Harry was exasperated. The news had come out of nowhere and Lara was just treating it like it was nothing.

She laughed lightly. "In his defense, he technically met me the day before you did. So he's known me longer than you."

Harry rolled his eyes. "The point is I haven't met him. How can he hope you'll say yes before he even meets the whole family?"

"Harry, you're being silly. I didn't even say yes," she replied.

"What does your father think about all this?" Harry huffed. He was angry. The nerve of this guy, trying to move in on his cousin. It just rankled him.

"I haven't told him yet," she replied honestly.

"And Ron? What about Ron? He really likes you!" Harry grumbled, getting up and pacing the room.

Lara blushed deeply. "I like Ron too. He's really sweet. But Dorian _needs_ me," she said wistfully.

"That's a crummy reason to marry someone, Lara. Plus, Ron needs you too. He just broke up with Hermione and he's hurting. You can't just toss him aside," he huffed.

Lara looked hurt. "I'm not! I like him, but you're right… he did just break up with someone… and I don't want to be the rebound girl."

"Oh, so you'd rather be the rebound memory for Mr. Mystery?" Harry spat.

Lara made a sound that was halfway between and scream and a groan of frustration and leapt to her feet. "You listen to me Harry James Potter, if you think you can just show up in my life and push me around, you've got another thing coming. If I want to marry Dorian I will, and there is nothing you can do about it!" she yelled before storming out of Harry's flat.

He heard the distinct sound of her slamming her own door across the way and winced. He hadn't meant to piss her off; it just all seemed so sudden… and so wrong.

--

"She what?" Ron demanded.

"I know," Harry said, shaking his head in dismay.

"I'll kill the bastard!" he shouted. "What room is he in? I'll smother him with a pillow!"

Harry tried to suppress a grin at the image of Ron doing just that. "She'll come to her senses Ron, don't worry. In the meantime, you had better turn up the wooing."

Ron nodded. "Right. I really like her, Harry."

"I know you do, which is why I trust you to win her heart. Just think, we could be brothers after all," he added, patting Ron roughly on the back.

"Thanks for the heads up, Harry. Do you think I should go see her now?" he asked, looking over at the door.

Harry shook his head rapidly. "No, definitely not. I think she's still pissed at me. Maybe tonight... you could take her to a movie or something."

"Good idea," he agreed and walked back over to the fireplace. "I'll let you know how it goes," he said, before flooing back to the Burrow.

He knew Ron had it in him to win over Lara; he just needed a little prompting. Meanwhile Harry needed to finally go to the hospital and meet the bloke who was trying to marry his unsuspecting cousin.

--

Harry wasted no time in apparating to the hospital. He wanted to get this over with before Lara decided to come back over to his flat, or worse, come to the hospital and warn the guy that he was coming.

He walked quickly through the lobby and to the elevator. It was just opening when he approached and he grinned at his good luck.

His grin faltered however when he saw Dr. Evans standing in the elevator. "I think Lara's off this morning," Henry said politely.

"I know, sir. I was actually hoping I could catch up with that special patient of hers," he said hurriedly.

"Mr. Gray? What do you need him for?" Henry asked suspiciously.

"She just talks about him so much… and I thought…" Harry let his voice trail off.

Henry broke into a wide grin. "This wouldn't be a visit to welcome him into the family would it, Harry?"

"Sir?" he asked perplexed.

"Dorian told me he asked Lara to marry him. It's great isn't it?" Henry asked enthusiastically.

"Yes, great," Harry muttered. Apparently he could only count on Ron to help him talk some sense into her.

"Well, I'm afraid you'll have to wait and congratulate him tonight with the rest of us. He was released this morning and he's staying at my flat for the moment. We'll be at Lara's place for dinner tonight," he added. "I was going to invite you over when I got off my shift."

Harry sighed and nodded. "I'll be there, sir."

"I know how you feel, I feel the same way," Henry said, clapping a soft hand on Harry's shoulder.

"Yeah?" Harry asked, looking up hopefully. Maybe he wasn't alone in this after all.

"You've only just met her and now you'll be losing her. Once she has a husband she'll have very little time for either of us," Henry said solemnly.

Did no one think that this whole thing was rushed? "That's exactly it," Harry replied, feeling defeated.

"We'll just have to be happy that she's happy," Henry sighed. "See you at seven?" he asked as they both walked from the elevator and back toward the lobby.

"Yes, you will. I look forward to finally meeting this mystery man," Harry added with a wave.

"Oh, you'll like him I'm sure. He's very sweet and obviously smitten with your cousin," Henry said with a laugh, and went back toward the patient rooms to complete his rounds.

--

Harry was dressed in black trousers and a slinky dark gray shirt. His hair wasn't remotely tamed, but it was the best it was going to get without some serious magical assistance. He paced back and forth in his living room waiting for the clock to chime seven, but eventually gave up and decided to go over early.

He walked across the hall and knocked on Lara's door.

She poked her head out and narrowed her eyes at him. "Are you going to behave?" she asked, not really giving him any leeway to say 'no'.

"I promise," he said with a grin.

She beamed at him and opened the door wider in order to hug him tightly. "Good, I have someone here I want you to meet."

Harry braced himself as he walked into Lara's flat. It was a mirror image of his own, though it was messier than his place. He picked a stray sock off of the sofa as he passed it and waved it at Lara.

She paled and he snickered silently and banished it to her bedroom with a flick of his wand, then quickly concealed it as a noise from the kitchen brought him back to his original purpose. A man, the same height as Harry and very fit, walked out of the kitchen and stood with his arm draped possessively across Lara's shoulders.

Harry's jaw dropped slightly at the sight and anger welled inside him again. Harry held out his hand and he watched as Lara suppressed a chuckle. He gave her a confused look and she started laughing.

"Harry, this is my twin brother, Vane. Vane this is our cousin Harry," she said in between giggles.

Vane extended his hand and took Harry's, shaking it firmly. "Nice to meet you Harry, Lara tells me you've been stirring things up around here."

Harry blushed. "I'm sure she exaggerates."

He leveled hazel eyes at Harry and smiled. "She tends to do that. She's told me all about you."

"How nice for you. Funny, she failed to mention a single thing about you and now she apparently finds that fact hilarious," he said, sending her a mock glare.

She laughed again. "I could just see you getting all puffed up and about to tell him to sod off. You thought it was Dorian didn't you?"

Harry nodded. "Yes… but I wasn't puffed up."

"You were a little puffed," she corrected.

Harry rolled his eyes and turned back to Vane." Well it's nice to meet you anyway, even if your sister is so rude she never once mentioned you."

Vane laughed and they all took a seat on Lara's sofa and chatted amicably. "I told Vane about your stick collection," she said with a laugh.

"I think it's brilliant that you inherited that. Apparently it's been a dormant trait in our family for generations," Vane added.

Harry smiled. He was glad he wouldn't have to go through the whole song and dance with his new family member. He would have to keep things in check around Dorian though. That would be a pain in the arse. 'Just another thing to hate about him,' Harry mused silently.

"You'll have to keep your wand in your trousers when Dorian gets here though," Lara said with a smirk.

"I was just thinking that," Harry grumbled.

All warnings of magic and wands were left by the wayside as a sharp knock sounded at the door. "That's them," Lara squealed quietly.

She ran over to the door and opened it wide. Henry walked in followed by Dorian. As soon as Harry saw the mystery visitor, he almost passed out. His jaw dropped as his eyes locked onto crystal clear gray orbs. The familiar platinum blonde hair hung loosely around his face, and a polite smile – something Harry had never seen on that particular face before – formed on his delicate lips.

Lara looked back and forth between Harry's wide eyes and that of the newcomer and looked worried. "Harry, are you alright? Dorian?"

Authors Note: I accept reviews in the form of written word, song, dance and food product (magical or otherwise)


	6. Friend or Foe

Authors Note: I know I made everyone angry with the last chapter, and yes I really wish I could have seen all your faces when I introduced Vane instead of Draco and then when I let the meeting of Draco happen in only the last seconds of the chapter. I did give you all exactly what you asked for though. lol. Have I mentioned I looooove a cliffhanger? Hopefully this will be more fulfilling for you all. ;) Thanks again to Alexandra who suggested an extra bit I put into Harry's ranting.

Chapter 6 Friend or Foe?

"Harry? Snap out of it," someone was yelling in his ear. He couldn't tell who, though. His attention was one hundred percent focused on the man who had just walked through his cousin's door. The person that his newly acquired family had been fawning over for weeks, the man who had the audacity to ask for Lara's hand in marriage, the man who had carefully eluded meeting Harry until this very moment, for Merlin only knew what twisted reasons.

"Malfoy," he spat. "What the hell are you doing here?"

The man's smile faltered and he looked around the room. Finally it seemed to dawn on him that Harry was onto his game, but he played dumb. "Me? Do you know me?" he asked.

"You know him, Harry?" Lara asked with a mixture of excitement and concern for Harry's look of obvious distaste.

"Oh I know him alright," Harry sneered. "He's a Death Eater."

There were gasps and several mumbled responses to the revelation, for all in the room could understand the implications of Harry's accusation.

Suddenly the animosity for his childhood rival, the feelings that he had let dissipate after the war, all resurfaced with blinding speed. He leapt for Malfoy's arm, pulling up the sleeve to show the now faded tattoo on his arm. "This is the dark mark," Harry spat. "Do you still plan to marry a murderer dear cousin?" he fumed.

Lara's eyes were wide. "You… you're certain?" she asked.

Harry nodded curtly. "This is Draco Malfoy, his father was Voldemort's right hand man, his Aunt killed my godfather and tortured my best friend, _he_ nearly killed our headmaster as well as another student and Ron in our sixth year, not to mention he's been a right pain in my arse since I turned eleven. He's evil incarnate _and_ he's probably faking this amnesia bit," Harry added with an indignant huff.

He heard the soft voice in the back of his mind chastise him for leaving off important bits about Draco never having actually killed Dumbledore and that the headmaster was willing to provide the boy protection even then. He also failed to acknowledge that Draco protected him at Malfoy manor, his mother saved his life during the war and the fact that if it weren't for Draco and his wand, Harry would have lost to Voldemort in the end.

No one was speaking; they were all looking from Harry to Draco and back again, waiting for Draco to dispute the charges.

He didn't.

"It sounds as though this man knows me, but I assure you I don't recall him. Did you say my name is Draco?" he asked, his voice casual and undisturbed.

Harry groaned. Even as a fake muggle amnesia patient Malfoy was insufferable. "Yes," he bit out. "Did you ignore the bit where I told you that you were evil?"

Draco shook his head. "No, I didn't ignore you, I just don't understand. I haven't the foggiest who any of those people are that you named off, and I don't remember any of the acts of violence you claimed I performed."

"Claimed?" Harry shouted, leaping for Draco's throat.

It was too much. He had put his past with Malfoy behind him. Harry saved his life during the war and Narcissa saved his. He felt in a way that they were even, but it didn't erase everything he had witnessed. Now he was moving in on him again. Lying to people that he loved, threatening to take them away from him. After everything Harry had lost, he wouldn't lose his new family. Especially not to Draco bloody Malfoy.

Henry interceded and pulled Harry away from Draco's throat. "Harry, he said calmly. Whatever this boy did to you is in the past. I assure you he's not faking his memory loss. I've done multiple CT scans myself and I've seen the trauma."

"And you think none of that could be faked with magic?" Harry didn't know that it could, but by the frown on Henry's face neither did he.

Vane interjected on his father's behalf. "I think what's important here is that we know who he is now. We can contact his family and go from there," he stated evenly.

Normally Harry would be impressed by the man's level head, but right know Harry just wanted to strangle someone, preferably one obnoxious blonde. He took several deep calming breaths and let them out slowly. "I'm going to floo Hermione. She'll know how to contact the Malfoy's," he said at last, and was a bit upset to hear the collective sigh spread through the room at Harry's proposed departure.

Maybe he had gotten carried away, and Merlin knows he didn't wish to spook his new family with his outburst, but this was Malfoy. The bane of his existence, and memory loss or no, they had no idea what they were dealing with.

--

"I'll be there in a minute," Hermione stated plainly.

He had reluctantly given Hermione his floo address after explaining the situation to her. She insisted she get to see Malfoy for herself before making an attempt to locate Lucius and Narcissa.

She had never heard of a spell that would fake brain trauma on muggle machinery, but didn't overrule some other option, like a potion or glamour. There was a distinct possibility that he was faking, and Harry wasn't going to let him get away with it if that were the case.

It just seemed all too convenient that Draco was brought to _that _hospital and assigned to _his_ uncle, and only the day before Harry found out about them for himself.

Hermione was stepping into his flat a moment later and throwing her arms around him. After nearly suffocating him in her wild auburn hair she pulled back and wagged her finger at him. "I can't believe it took a Draco Malfoy sighting for you to finally floo me," she chastised.

"It's a bit more complicated than a sighting, Mione, and we both know why I don't visit more often," he replied tersely.

She huffed at him. "Well, the flat is nice, Harry and… well I've been talking to Ron, and he says you're really happy now, what with finding Lara and your uncle. I just wanted to you know that I won't give you away again. I only ever wanted you to be happy. Before I thought that you were running from the war. I thought that facing things would help, but apparently running was the right thing to do," she added with a grimace.

Harry smiled. "Thanks, Mione. I am happy, and you're welcome here anytime," he said. She looked like she might hug him again so he interrupted her. "Lara's flat is just across the hall. Malfoy's there."

She nodded briskly and they set out across the corridor.

--

Draco Malfoy.

The name clicked in his mind like a puzzle piece falling into place. He felt the haziness inch away from that part of his mind, followed closely by the space occupying the name Harry. He could almost say the whole name from memory, but something kept it locked away, just outside of reach.

He had been familiar though. The moment he had walked into the room and seen the boy, he knew. Draco knew the person he was supposed to be would know the other boy.

Those green eyes, they were the ones he dreamed about. They were the same shade and held the same depth of thought and emotion that attracted his buried memories to the surface.

Everyone was staring at him. This family he had adopted all thought he was the thing that Harry had accused him of.

Death Eater.

That name cleared away more space in his mind, but that space contained only pitch-black dark. The kind you'd never see even in the purest of nights because the light of just one star would be too much for it to withstand.

The door clicked open and everyone was on edge again. Harry came back in, toting a girl he suspected to be this Hermione character he had mentioned. Who would name their child Hermione was beyond him, but then, his name was Draco, so what could he say?"

She looked at him and nodded at once. "It's him no doubt, right down to the trademark Malfoy smirk," she said brightly.

She then whirled around and offered her hand to Lara and Henry and the other man Draco hadn't been introduced to yet. She hesitated at his hand and blushed furiously as he took hers and held it up to his lips.

Romantic Mudblood.

The thought came to his mind unbidden and he nearly choked on it. He didn't even know what it meant, but it left a foul taste in his mouth.

Harry was still watching him, and he tried to avoid the emerald gaze, but found it too compelling to look away for long.

"So, Malfoy, anything coming back to you yet?" he whispered while Hermione and the others chatted.

"Feelings," Draco responded. "I know I am who you say, the name feels right. I feel yours too, Harry," he said.

Harry flinched and Draco gave him a perplexed look. "In school you always called me 'Potter'," he said in answer to Draco's look.

"Potter," he repeated. "Yes, you're right. That does feel better," he said with a smile.

Harry smiled back and then apparently realized something else and frowned.

"Did we really treat each other so formally," he asked.

"It's not a sign of respect," Harry scoffed. "We've hated each other since we met," he added.

Draco blinked and rolled the word 'hate' around on his tongue. "No, that can't be right. It doesn't feel right. You may have hated me, but I didn't hate you."

A perplexed look made Harry's green eyes glow. "I assure you, Malfoy. You hated me. Ever since that first day in Madame Malkin's, when we got our Hogwarts robes, you've been a right prat."

"Robes?" he asked. The thought of it gave him shivers because it went along so well with the nightmares he had been having, the same ones he had passed off as the ranting of a crazy man.

"We're wizards, you and I, surely you remember?" Harry prodded.

Draco shook his head. The words all made sense and fit securely in place with other remnants of memories Draco had picked up over the past few weeks. He didn't want that life though. Whenever he tried to think too hard about it, it hurt him. It was like a sharp pain twisted through his heart and soul and left him feeling broken.

He wanted no part of his past life.

"Speaking of, where have you been hiding your wand?" Harry asked. His tone seemed casual, but Draco could see in his eyes that the boy didn't believe him. He didn't think Draco was sick at all, and thought he was faking his memory loss.

Draco knew those eyes. He could read every emotion that flickered through them.

He rummaged in his pockets and pulled out a stone and a gold coin and held them out to Harry. "This was all they found on me when I was brought into the hospital, along with the clothes I was wearing, which Henry says were burnt to a crisp."

Harry held out his palm and accepted the small items. "This is just a galleon, wizard money," he added at Draco's confused look. "This other though…" his voice trailed off and his eyes went wide.

"How did you get this?" he demanded.

"The rock?" Draco asked, confused again. He hadn't a clue why Harry should be so bent out of shape over a small stone.

"This is the resurrection stone. I tossed it into the Forbidden forest after the war. How. Did. You. Find. It?" Harry shouted.

All eyes were on them again, and both Henry and the other man tensed as if waiting to break apart a fight. "I didn't know what it was. I still don't, should I?"

Harry huffed and closed his palm around it, shaking his head. He turned away and walked over to Hermione, showing her the stone. There were whispered conversations and Draco was starting to get worried.

What would happen to him if they decided to throw him out? What if they thought he wasn't worth the trouble any longer and went on Harry's word alone? He had to get someone else on his side, someone he trusted.

"Lara," he whispered.

She came to him at once and pulled him into a hug. "I'm so sorry, Dor… Draco. I know this must be difficult," she cooed.

Draco relaxed in her arms, trying to ignore the angry glares being shot at him from across the room by Harry.

"Hermione says she knows how to get in touch with your parents. As soon as they learn where you are, I'm sure they'll be here," she said.

This bit of information didn't make him feel better. Something deep inside said that he wanted to keep his parents far, far away, though he didn't know why.

Authors Note: I think you all know by now my love of reviews


	7. Malfoy Favors

Authors Note: Thanks to my beta's Alexandra and Shannon.

Chapter 7 Malfoy Favors

"Henry, we talked about this," Draco said. "You know I want to start over. I could care less if I ever recover my memories."

"That was all well and good when we didn't have the faintest clue as to who you were, but now we do. Your parents will be here later tonight, and you'll be leaving with them," Dr. Evans said. His tone made it clear that Draco was not supposed to argue, but he left the tone unheeded.

"I don't want to leave with them. What about Lara, and you and Har- everyone else," he asked. The rug was being pulled out from under him and he was grasping for a handhold. He had talked to Henry about everything after he asked Lara to marry him.

The doctor had been reluctant at best, but Draco managed to convince him of his intentions with his daughter, and he even admitted to having never seen his daughter happier. Now he was taking back his word, his blessing. It wasn't fair.

"Draco, you have a family, people who love you and care about you. You should be with them. It would also be best if you were to give Lara some room," he added, his eyes narrowing. "This has all been very hard for her, and it would be better if she could gain some closure as soon as possible."

Draco sighed. It appeared nothing he said would change the doctor's mind. Now he was forced to give up the only family he could remember.

Harry and Hermione had gone back to Harry's flat, along with Lara's brother Vane, whom Draco was finally introduced to once the commotion had settled. He and Hermione seemed to be hitting things off right away, and there was mention of calling someone else over, a Ron, perhaps.

Much weight had been put into the rock Draco had been carrying, and the three were odd to research. Draco got the impression this was something the Hermione girl did often, and he also assumed Harry disliked it based on his grumbling.

Draco didn't understand the importance of the stone, nor did he recall where he had retrieved it, though according to Harry, it would have been impossible. The wizard money he had given back to Draco, and he was twisting it between his fingers like some sort of good luck trinket.

Not that it was bringing him any.

--

A knock on the door made Harry jump and he turned, startled to answer it. Before he could reach the door however, Lara walked through and came to where he was standing. She looked nervous and jittery.

"Draco doesn't want his parents to come here," she whispered.

Harry rolled his eyes. "No, he wouldn't would he? I'm sure they would spoil all his plans."

Lara gave him an impatient look. "I'm serious, Harry. He came to me and he's honestly afraid. He doesn't even know why, but his fear is genuine. You have to help him, Harry. Keep him here, don't let them get to him."

"They'll be using my fireplace to floo over. He'll be no safer here, plus I'm certain that Lucius and Narcissa pose no threat to Malfoy. He's their only son, he's the only person I have ever seen them show a lick of compassion for," he added. Again he ignored the fact that Narcissa had once showed the same compassion to him.

"Are they cruel people?" Lara asked, even more on edge than before.

Harry sighed and shrugged. "They always seemed so to me, they're Death Eaters after all. But they are not cruel to Draco, not that I could ever tell."

She shook her head and wrapped her arms around herself. "But you don't know for sure do you? They could beat him or use magic on him…"

"They wouldn't," Harry interrupted. He didn't know for sure, and Lara was right, he couldn't. How was he to know what went on in the Malfoy household? But it changed nothing, Draco belonged to them, and Harry wanted Malfoy out of his hair as soon as possible.

"If we discover differently?" she asked, her eyes hopeful.

Harry raked his fingers through his hair and sighed. "There is nothing I could do, Lara. The Malfoy's have every right to take their son back with them. The most I could do is contact the Ministry and let them know about my suspicions. Though I doubt that will do any good, it would be quite the opposite of what I testified to only a few months ago."

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"They were spared from Azkaban – wizard prison – by my testimony. Lucius, Narcissa and Draco were all on trial for their activity during and leading up to the war. I testified to what happened and what I witnessed personally, and they were released," he grumbled.

It had been the outcome he was hoping for, but it still irked him. His name carried so much weight after the war that he could have denounced McGonagall and had her thrown in prison on his word alone. It was disgusting.

He had fled the wizarding world shortly after that, and only Hermione suspected the reason he had run.

"But- how can you say you hate Draco so much if you gave your word in court to save him?" she asked. Her face showed confusion, and it was mirrored by Harry's own feelings.

He hadn't wanted Draco to go to prison, and certainly not his mother. Lucius he wanted to see rot inside a cold dark cell, but he couldn't very well prosecute Lucius and not the rest of his family, especially Draco.

Plus, part of him, a part he didn't understand or even knew existed before the war, had stayed him. He didn't want Draco to have to part with his father, and he didn't want him to suffer. Narcissa had saved him, they were even, but it was more than that.

He wanted to protect Draco from harm.

He had wanted it since the day of the war when he saved him from the fire in the Room of Requirement. Something in him wanted to keep Draco safe and warm.

Though it was much easier to think those fuzzy soft feelings when the prat wasn't in the next room pretending to have memory loss.

"Things with Draco and I are… complicated. I don't want to see him suffer, but that doesn't mean I want him anywhere near me while he's doing all that not-suffering," Harry huffed.

Lara smiled up at him and the smile worried Harry. "You'll do the right thing," she said and kissed him lightly on the cheek.

Harry groaned and shoved her away playfully. "That's right, always the hero," he muttered. "Even to my own detriment," he added for his own behalf.

Lara just smiled and let him go back to Hermione and Vane, who had scarcely even noticed he was missing.

--

The floo burst into green flames at nine sharp and Lucius stepped out, followed by his wife.

Lucius was wearing a black and gray suit, accented with ice blue, which looked to be from the wrong century. It was partially covered by billowy black robes baring the Malfoy family crest. Narcissa was dressed in a floor length velvet gown in the same light blue color with black and silver lacings on the sleeves and bodice.

Both Malfoys perfectly platinum coifs flowed around them like a silvery halo and Lara and Vane both gasped at their appearance.

Lucius sneered at the muggles but quickly rearranged his features when he spotted Harry. He bowed low and Narcissa fell into a deep curtsy. "The testimony you gave to our family was unexpected Mr. Potter, but no less appreciated," Lucius said.

"I was never given the opportunity to thank you properly," he added. "On behalf of my family I extend my sincerest gratitude and if there is ever any favor I can perform for you, consider it done."

Lucius's voice was proud yet yielding and Harry knew the man was being genuine. It was an odd feeling to have a Malfoy indebted to him, and he wasn't sure he liked it. He nodded back. "I only want the war to be over and the healing to begin, sir."

"Still, it was a kind and generous act you performed on our behalf, Harry," Narcissa cooed. It sounded odd to hear her speak his name as she would her own son. "You are a welcome ally to our family," she added.

"And on top of this great gift of freedom you return our son to us. We have been worried over him for weeks and you have found him, Harry, we will never be able to repay your kindness but we shall try," she said, and it seemed she was on the verge of tears.

Lucius did not seem to share her every sentiment, but didn't say anything to refute it. No doubt he saw little use for a half blood as an ally, even if he was the great war hero, Harry Potter.

"I'm not the one who found him, Mrs. Malfoy. That honor goes to someone unnamed, but my uncle and my cousin treated him and took care of him. I only just discovered who he was earlier today," Harry said. He hoped to spread around the gracious behavior of the Malfoy's and have it extend to his muggle relatives before it ran out.

"This must be your cousin, but where might your uncle be?" Narcissa asked. "I wish to thank him as well."

"He's at my flat with Draco," Lara answered.

Narcissa walked over and pulled Lara into a hug. "Thank you for taking care of my son," she whispered.

Lara only blushed and nodded. "Draco and I… well he asked me… he asked me to marry him," she stuttered.

Harry groaned and raked his fingers through his hair. He had hoped the tragic engagement wouldn't be brought up and that Lara would let it go, but apparently he wasn't going to be so lucky.

Lucius barked with laughter. "My son, marry a muggle? That's preposterous. He's a pureblood wizard, dear girl, he has training and breeding you could never hope to achieve, even if you are related to Potter," he said. He didn't sound angry, only that the whole idea must have been an elaborate joke that he had no intention of falling for.

Lara turned red and Harry cringed and went to his cousin, pulling her close. "Draco did ask, but of course we realize that he's not of sound mind," Harry said. "No one here expects the proposal to hold now," he added.

She shot Harry a scathing look. "He still wants to marry me, and I have half a mind to agree," she huffed.

Apparently foreseeing the upcoming conflict, Narcissa spoke. "Could we see our son now?" she asked.

Harry nodded. "I think that would be good. You should both take him home as soon as possible."

--

Authors Note: yes, yet another cliffhanger. Go figure. lol.


	8. Poorly Received

Authors Note: Many thanks to my lovely beta Alexandra. So I'm leaving for Philly today, and probably won't get a chance to post again until middle of next week. I hope you are all enjoying the stories and the cliffhangers wink. I hope I have lots of reviews when I get back!! I'm also working on another story (I know, I know) called Rivaling Affections, which is of course another Harry/Draco. I will most likely start posting it when I get back, so look for it mid-next week.

**Chapter 8 Poorly Received**

The door opened and Harry came through first, followed by Hermione and Vane. Behind them were two people who were undeniably Draco's parents. He had no real memory of them, but the resemblance was uncanny.

Never had he seen any two family members who looked so similar in all his life. His parents almost looked like brother and sister. Their long platinum hair and pale skin matched his own, and though his mother's eyes were blue, his fathers were the same gray shade as his own.

They looked rich, judging by their clothing, and obviously wizards as Harry had mentioned before. The black cloaks made him weary and brought back nightmares he would have rather forgotten.

The next thing that hit him was their names. He remembered them both, Narcissa and Lucius. After that a wave of fear and nausea hit him. He backed up and pressed himself as far against the wall as he could muster, he could tell his whole body was quivering with this terror running through his bones.

"Get them out of here," he whispered. "Please, make them leave."

Lara looked down at him and frowned and then her eyes flicked up to Harry's pleadingly.

"Draco dear," came the soft musical voice of his mother. "Do you recognize us?"

Draco nodded but stayed where he was. The fear continued to wash over him like a suffocating blanket.

"We're here to take you home, son," his father said.

Shaking his head he looked up again at Lara who looked down at him with pity. "What's wrong?" she whispered.

"Please, I can't go with them," Draco whimpered.

"Did they do something to you?" she hissed.

He thought about it, tried to reach into his memory for any bits about his parents using violence against him but there was nothing. Still, the fear refused to ebb. "I don't know, but I'm afraid. I need them to leave."

Lara nodded and placed herself in front of him. "Mr. And Mrs. Malfoy, I think Draco needs more time to adjust. He's not ready to go with you just yet," she said.

"How dare you?" Lucius growled. "You propose to stand between me and my son? I'll bury you," he hissed.

--

Harry stepped up into Lucius's line of vision. "Mr. Malfoy, it's not necessary to make threats. Lara won't keep Draco here, will you?" he asked her without turning around. He knew Lucius would have his wand and could reach it quickly; Harry wasn't willing to take the chance and turn his back on him.

"I wouldn't keep him here against his will, but he's afraid… he doesn't want to leave with them," she said.

Harry sighed and positioned himself where he could watch both Lara and Lucius. "What do you mean, he's afraid? They're his parents," he said, agitated.

"Just look at him," she pleaded.

Harry did. He let his eyes drift over to Malfoy. His body was shaking with fear, his eyes were practically glowing with it. The silver eyes flicked up and met his then, and Harry shuddered. The terror was raw on his face.

"Please, Harry," Draco mouthed and Harry swallowed thickly and nodded.

"Lara's right, sir," he said at last. "Perhaps I should keep him at my flat for a bit, and we can work on getting his memories back. He's obviously been through some trauma, and maybe he's misplacing it on the two of you," he said, trying to be diplomatic.

Lucius narrowed his eyes but gave a curt nod. "I'll send Biddy over with our pensieve tomorrow, along with several important memories I would like you to have him view. You should probably show him any of your own that could trigger his memories," he added, his face clearly displeased with the turn of events, but not attempting to argue.

In Harry's mind it only went to further his assumption that Lucius and Narcissa never did anything harmful to their son. If they had caused any of this, they would have wanted him under their watchful eye at all times, he was certain.

Lara visibly relaxed and didn't even flinch when Lucius shot her a scathing glare.

He gathered his wife and they left the flat. Harry escorted them back to his fireplace and sent an apologetic look to Narcissa, who looked near to tears. "I'm sorry, I really don't know what to say. I promise I will do everything in my power to help your son," he said.

She nodded and patted him lightly on the cheek. "You're a fine boy, Harry. Draco's lucky to have you in his life."

Harry smiled weakly and nodded to Lucius once more, before they stepped into the green flames and were gone.

--

"Where's Henry?" Harry asked upon returning to Lara's flat. They were on the sofa. Draco was curled in a ball, his head in her lap.

"He slipped out complaining of a migraine when Lucius came in," she said. "Something seemed off about those two," she added.

Harry laughed. "Well, they are only two of the oldest lines of pureblood wizards. They are the most traditional magical family I have ever met."

Lara shrugged. "Something other than their otherworldly beauty and grace, I mean. They seemed… familiar."

The hairs on the back of his neck stood up as a memory struck him, but he filed it away for further analyzing later.

Right now he had bigger problems. Malfoy was to be staying with him for an unknown amount of time and he had to sort some things out. First and foremost, sleeping arrangements.

Harry's flat only had the one bedroom, and he surely wasn't sleeping on the sofa. He would have to ask Hermione to suggest some spells for such an occasion before she left.

--

Harry liked Vane, he was smart and funny and obviously had good taste in women based on his behavior with Hermione.

Apparently he had been at Oxford when Harry arrived and hadn't had a break in his classes long enough to drive down and meet him until that night. He was going to be leaving first thing in the morning and made sure to get everyone's addresses, Hermione's especially.

Draco was sound asleep on the sofa, Lara casually petting his hair as they all talked. Harry couldn't take his eyes off of the sleeping blonde. He looked so peaceful in comparison to his earlier terrified self.

"Like an angel," Harry whispered to himself.

"What's that, Harry?" Lara asked.

"Nothing," he muttered, clearing his throat and ignoring the knowing look that Hermione shot his direction.

Vane also looked his direction and narrowed his eyes slightly. Harry just smiled back innocently and after a moment he was back to staring at Hermione.

"So how often do wizards marry… regular people?" Lara blurted and both Vane and Hermione blushed.

"We call non-magical humans muggles," Hermione informed her.

Harry shrugged. "It all depends on the family I guess. Draco's and Ron's for instance are pureblood, so everyone in their family for generations has been wizards. I'm half, as you know. My father was a pureblood like Ron and Draco, and my mum was a muggle-born, obviously. Hermione's parents were both muggles, so she grew up like I did, with no knowledge of magic or Hogwarts until she got her letter."

"I don't think it's as common for purebloods to marry muggles or muggle-borns, but I'm proof that it happens occasionally," he added.

Lara seemed to think on that for a while and continued to run her fingers through Draco's hair.

Hermione yawned and stretched. "I should probably go," she said, mostly to Vane.

He leaned in and kissed her lightly on the forehead. "You'll have to come visit me at Oxford. We have the best libraries," he announced.

"Oh, dirty talk already," she laughed and Vane smiled wider. "I would love to come visit."

Harry got up and escorted her back to his flat. He still needed to get her expertise on a few things before she flooed home.

--

"What's the big deal?" Hermione asked.

"It's Malfoy," Harry said simply.

"But Harry, your gay," she replied, as if that justified anything.

"Which makes him less Malfoy?" Harry asked, glaring at her.

"I really don't understand," she said, heading for the fireplace as if their conversation were over.

"The fact that I'm gay makes it even less appropriate for me to sleep in the same bed with him," he huffed.

"How?" Hermione asked, turning around and looking genuinely curious. She was the only one who knew about his affinity for boys. She was annoyingly perceptive and called him on it one evening before he left after the war. She had asked about Ginny, to which Harry merely grunted a noncommittal response and she had blurted it out.

He could laugh about it now, but at the time, his best friend calling him on his sexual preference was a traumatic event for him.

"Would you like to share a bed with Ron?" Harry asked.

She curled up her nose in distaste. "Not likely," she snorted.

Harry laughed. "This is the same for me."

"But I wouldn't sleep with Ron because we have a past together," she said, raising her eyebrow in challenge.

Harry held up his hands in defense. "And I have a past with Malfoy, just not like that," he countered.

"But you find him attractive?" she asked, the look on her face was innocent, but Harry could see the flicker of amusement in her eyes.

"I would be foolish not to," Harry answered honestly. "But that doesn't mean I'm attracted _to_ him."

"Then I see no issue," she said with a smile and before he could stop her, she had shouted her address into his fireplace and disappeared.

Harry cast several wards on the fireplace to block her on the next time she floo called as punishment for her infuriating lack of assistance.

--

Author Note: Review please. I hope to come home to a very full inbox


	9. Goodnight

Authors Note: I'm back!! Many thanks as always to my beta's Alexandra & Shannon. Also, if you have not already seen, I posted the first chapter of my newest story titled Rivaling Affections, please check it out and let me know what you think of it.

**Chapter 9 Goodnight**

Harry walked into Lara's living room heavy with trepidation. Vane was saying goodbye to his sister and looked up at Harry's entrance. "Would you like me to carry him to your place?" he asked helpfully.

Harry shook his head. Draco was taller than him, but lighter, especially after being in the hospital for weeks. Plus he always had magic.

"Could you just make sure no one is lingering in the corridor?" Harry asked.

Vane nodded and stepped up to Harry. "Thanks for doing this," he said in a conspiratorially. "I don't want him staying here with Lara."

Harry nodded and sighed in relief. Finally someone in this over-trusting family thought that Lara and Draco were a bad idea. "I know what you mean," he replied. "And really, it's no problem," he lied smoothly. Spending time with Draco was probably his least favored or needed activity at the moment.

Vane shook his head and patted Harry on the shoulder. "I know it must be difficult, and I'm eternally grateful. I was at school when my mom died and I feel awful for not being able to protect all of them. I wouldn't know what to do if anything happened to Lara."

"Wait," Harry said, something clicking in his mind. "Was Lara there too, when your mom died?"

"Well, sure. Lara and dad were both left for dead, but somehow survived whatever happened. It's the strangest thing," he mused.

"What did happen?" Harry asked in a whisper.

"Neither one remembers much, but from what they did tell me, they were at home, having dinner and someone broke in. Lara only remembers bright green light after that, and then nothing at all. Dad thought he saw the attackers, but he can't remember anything solid about them. Neither of them saw what happened to mom, they just remember the police telling them how they found her."

"The police assumed it was a robbery and that the people involved must have just panicked when they found people there. No one was ever caught for it," he added with a grimace.

Harry narrowed his eyes in thought. "Something seems off, but I just can't pinpoint it," he said and part of him wished he had stayed to complete his Auror training. His instincts told him there was more to the story though.

He didn't have anytime to think about it though, because Draco was stirring on the sofa and Lara was gently running her fingers through his hair. "Draco, dear," she cooed. "It's time for bed."

He groaned and hefted himself off the couch, watching Vane and Harry warily. "Well, lead me to my cell, warden," he told Harry.

Harry rolled his eyes and motioned for Draco to follow. He shook Vane's hand and kissed Lara lightly on the cheek. She squeezed his hand to stop him from leaving immediately. "Promise you'll take care of him," she whispered.

"Don't worry, your precious fiancé will remain in one piece," he remarked with a glare.

She smiled sweetly and let go of his hand. "He's not my fiancé yet," she added.

"I'll make sure you remember those words," Harry teased and left her flat, leading Draco across the hall to his own.

--

Draco looked around Harry's flat with interest. It was an identical layout to Lara's, but his was immaculate, where Lara was a bit of a slob.

On one side of the room was a large fireplace with towering bookshelves on either side. Several photos in frames lined the mantle but Draco barely recognized anyone in the pictures aside from Harry and Hermione. There was also a redheaded boy in some of the pictures who reminded him of Vane, but wasn't him.

In the living room were a large green sofa and two teal armchairs, all done in rich cherry wood and luxurious fabrics. The kitchen table was old looking with claw feet and four ornate chairs. The curtains were a darker green than the sofa and in a thick velvety texture.

It was impressive, and looked quite comfortable.

"So where's my room?" he asked.

"You're looking at it," Harry said with a smirk.

Draco blanched. "You seriously expect me to sleep on the sofa?" he asked.

"Or the floor," Harry said with a laugh.

"Why can't I just sleep in a guest room?" he demanded.

"Because there isn't one," Harry responded, heading for the kitchen, leaving Draco staring after him.

"Shouldn't you offer to sleep on the sofa then? I might not remember who I am, but I can recall proper manners when having a guest over," he huffed.

"How convenient," Harry muttered. "Saying you're my guest would imply that I _want_ you here, Malfoy," he added.

"And you don't?" he asked, suddenly panicked.

Harry narrowed his eyes. "No."

"Then why did you offer?" Draco scoffed, taken aback by Harry's disgust.

"Because…" Harry sighed letting his voice trial away. "It's what I do," he said at last. "Help the helpless, blah, blah, blah. It's what's expected of me."

"I don't need your charity," Draco stated firmly.

Harry came out of the kitchen with a pot of tea and two teacups trailed behind him in midair. "Sit," he ordered and surprisingly, Draco felt compelled to obey. "You seemed scared, terrified even, of Lucius and Narcissa. If they did something to you, I want to know. I can't do that without getting your memory back."

Draco sighed and watched as the kettle poured thin gray tea from its spout, without the assistance of Harry. It looked like something that should surprise him, simpler acts of magic had certainly surprised both Lara and Vane earlier, but it was familiar to Draco in a way he couldn't put his finger on.

"How do you take it?" Harry asked.

"I… don't know," Draco admitted.

Harry winced. "Sorry. How would you like to try it?"

Draco looked at the saucers on the tray and shrugged. "I'll take it the way you do," he said at last.

"I like mine sweet," Harry warned.

"Maybe I do too?" Draco said.

Harry poured a bit of whole milk and three cubes of sugar into both cups and handed one to Draco.

The blonde sipped at it and winced slightly. "Apparently I don't like it _that _sweet," he said with a grimace.

Harry chuckled and a moment later the cup was empty. More tea poured in followed by the milk and then only one cube of sugar. "That's perfect," Draco nodded, after taking a sip.

"Well, there's something we've learned about you, hm?" Harry said lightly.

"Yeah, now there are only a million or so things left," Draco groaned.

Harry laughed. "Maybe you'll be lucky and you'll turn out to be as shallow as I remember? That would only leave a few more things to learn," he teased.

Draco rolled his eyes and sneered at Harry, who proceeded to laugh harder. "I see you haven't lost your talent to make faces at me."

Draco sank further into his chair, slightly embarrassed and sipped on his tea. "Do you really expect me to sleep out here?" he asked after a moment.

"Unless you feel like sharing a bed with me," Harry scoffed.

The idea of sleeping next to Harry, curling delicately around his warm body, sent a chill down Draco's spine that he didn't know what to make of. "Er…" was all he managed to stumble out in reply.

"I didn't think so," Harry replied with a laugh.

Draco stood defiantly, squashing the feelings he had at Harry's previous mocking suggestion. "I'll sleep with you," he said. "I'm tired, where is our room?"

Harry's eyes nearly burst from his skull at his words. "You… what?" he stammered.

"Your room, Potter. Will you escort me there, or not?" he asked.

Harry shook his head in disbelief. "It's the door at the end of the hall," he muttered, motioning toward it.

Draco walked swiftly to the room Harry had indicated and it took his breath away.

It was all ivories and crisp blues in varying hues. The bed was a large king four-poster, plenty of room for both of them, Draco noted. It was pale ivory wood and silver iron woven together to make a peeked canopy above the bed. The linens were an icy blue with dark pewter accents. The window dressings were a dark navy brushed silk with the same ice blue from the bedding in ivy patterns lacing up from the bottom.

On both sides of the bed were ivory end tables, and there was another bookshelf in the corner by a navy blue armchair. Draco perused the books and blushed at their titles.

'The magical guide to sexual pleasure', 'Naughty Tricks and Sexy Tips for Male Wizards' and 'Homosexual Discoveries – a Manifesto of a Gay Wizard' were tucked between volumes about wandless magic and healing spells. "Is Potter gay?" he whispered to himself quietly.

"So what if I am?" Harry asked from the doorway, blushing slightly. "Care to rethink the sleeping arrangements?"

He thought about it for a moment but eventually shook his head. The sofa was very pretty, but didn't look too comfortable. From what he could tell of Harry's personality so far, he figured the boy would be far too noble to try anything regardless.

Harry sighed and went into his adjoining bathroom and remerged wearing only green silk pajama bottoms. He raised a black eyebrow at Draco in confusion, and only then did Draco realize he had been staring.

He quickly composed himself and nodded toward the trousers Harry was wearing. "Green seems wrong on you… I mean it looks good, with your eyes and all," he babbled, "but I feel like you usually don't wear green."

Harry blushed and climbed into bed, cutting off Draco's view of his chiseled stomach. "Green is actually _your_ house color, Slytherin," he amended. "Mine was red and gold, so that's what I usually wore, but I prefer green to red," he said.

"I was a Slytherin?" he asked softly and nodded to himself right away. It felt right. "And you were in… Gryffindor," he said with a triumphant grin, sure that he was correct.

Harry nodded. "Yes, that's right. Though I was almost in Slytherin, too," he added.

"Really?" Draco asked, climbing into bed beside him. "Why weren't you? I think I would have liked having you in my house," Draco asked.

Harry laughed. "No, you wouldn't have. I told you, we weren't friends. Quite the opposite, really. I wasn't in your house because you got sorted first and when it was my turn, I asked not to be put in Slytherin," he said quietly.

At Harry's words the first day at Hogwarts rushed through Draco's mind like a moving photograph. He saw the train, and his friends Crabbe and Goyle. He remembered trying to make friends with Harry, and Harry refusing. He remembered the sorting, and that the hat barely touched his head before shouting 'Slytherin', and he also recalled watching Harry's sorting, hoping he would be sorted into Slytherin as well, and wondering why his sorting took so long.

Now he knew.

"So that's why it took so long? You were asking the hat to change its mind?" he asked.

Harry looked skeptically at Draco for a moment and nodded. "You remember?" he asked.

Draco nodded. "I remember everything about the first day at Hogwarts. My mother cried when she left me at the platform and father told me not to worry, that I was a shoe in for Slytherin and to make him proud. He also told me to make friends with you," he added.

Harry winced. "That didn't go so well," he said.

"I remember that, too," Draco whispered. "Look, Potter… I know you hate me, you've made that clear, but I don't recall feeling any hatred toward you-"

"You did, trust me," Harry said, cutting him off.

Draco sighed. "Can we just start over?" he asked abruptly.

Harry blinked rapidly. "What do you mean?" he asked.

"I mean, based on the few memories I do have, I was an arse to you. I'm apologizing and I want to start over. I don't really remember anyone, and I don't feel like I have many people on my side right now. I'd like it if you were," he finished.

Harry took a deep breath and let it out slowly, watching Draco carefully. "I'll try," he said at last. "Unlike you I'm still burdened by the memories of our previous relationship, but I'll try to look past it."

Draco nodded and smiled. "That's all I can ask," he said before yawning widely. "This bed is so comfortable," he added sleepily, laying his head down on the thick plush pillow.

Harry smiled and mirrored him. Draco noticed that he was carefully settling as close to the other edge as possible.

"Goodnight, Malfoy," he said.

"Goodnight, Potter," Draco replied.

Authors Note: Say it together now "AWWW" lol. So at least it wasn't some insane-o cliffhanger, but please leave a review anyhow ;)


	10. Gryffindor's Word

Authors Note: I am so lucky to have so many readers who review my work. It makes me giddy to come home to an overflowing inbox. I'm astounded that most of my WIP stories are over 200 reviews prior to even chapter 10 being posted! Really, wow. It makes me enthusiastic to write when I know you all like the stories so much! Much love as always to my beta's on this story - Shannon and Alexandra. (hopefully I pulled down the right file this time!)

Chapter 10 Gryffindor's Word

Harry felt a comfortable weight on his chest and warmth radiating beside him. He tried to pull it closer, as if he would bring the heat inside of himself and startled slightly when the heat made a muffled groan.

His eyes flew wide but it hardly mattered because his sight was covered with brilliant blonde hair. He took a calming breath and was assaulted with the fragrance of lavender and vanilla. He shuddered at how pleasant the natural fragrance of Malfoy was to his senses.

Malfoy.

Harry tried to sit up, but Malfoy only snuggled closer pinning him back into the bed and making Harry want to groan in frustration. The boy was strategically wrapped around his body so that Harry couldn't move an inch without alerting him. His head was resting peacefully on Harry's chest and his arms curved strongly around his torso and one leg was thrown over both of Harry's. His own arms were wrapped around the blonde and he removed them at once.

Who would have thought Draco Malfoy liked to cuddle?

It was a precarious position at best and with Harry's morning erection trying to break through his trousers, it made it that much more uncomfortable. At the thought of his own hard prick he suddenly felt Draco's erection pressing into his hip.

Part of him never wanted to leave the warmth of the bed and Draco's arms, but the rest of him—the logical and well-meaning part of him—knew that Draco would be mortified if he woke up like this. And he was probably dreaming of cuddling next to Lara, not a scruffy boy and former school rival.

In spite of that theory, Harry might have been able to convince himself to fall back to sleep and let Draco keep holding him a little longer. Unfortunately, Draco chose that very moment to moan in his sleep and rut against Harry's thigh with his throbbing erection.

Harry's eyes went wide and he began shoving at Draco before he did something that he would regret. Eventually the boulder, which Malfoy had apparently turned into overnight, moved just enough for Harry to slide out from under him.

He bolted straight for the restroom and stood, leaning on the other side of the closed door, trying to catch his breath. Draco was hot, there was no doubt about that, and Harry was physically attracted to him, that much was evidenced by the tent in his trousers, but it shouldn't matter, because it was _Malfoy_ and even if it wasn't his oldest enemy it was still the man that Lara had designs on.

Lara was his family, and you just didn't do things like molest your cousin's fiancé.

Plus, Malfoy was straight. All these things certainly served to tip the scales in favor of leaving Malfoy alone. In truth, even if all those things didn't stand in his way, a relationship with someone like Malfoy was just out of the question.

The words 'Malfoy' and 'Relationship' in the same sentence didn't sound as wrong as he would have liked it to.

Harry groaned and went to the shower, making the water as cold as he could, and stood under the spray until he heard a knock on the door. He didn't answer it and assumed that Malfoy would be able to hear the shower running, put two and two together, and go away.

Apparently he was wrong.

The door opened with a mechanical click and Harry froze in place. "Potter?" Draco called form the doorway.

"What, Malfoy? I'm a little busy here," he replied, letting all of his annoyance replace the lust in his voice. He was naked, wet and hard and Draco was only a few feet away. He really needed to muster up all the annoyance he could find to counter that knowledge.

"I just wanted to find out how you take your tea," Draco said. "I just put on a kettle and I didn't watch what you did to yours last night."

I prefer to slurp it off your tight abdomen. Harry shook his head violently to clear the thoughts. "Er… milk and three sugars," he said out loud.

"Right, you like it sweet," he replied.

Harry whimpered at the dozens of innuendos floating through his mind.

"What was that?" Draco asked.

"Nothing," Harry squeaked.

"Okay," he replied hesitantly. "I'll be in the living room," he said at last and Harry heard the door click shut.

He let out a sigh of relief and leaned against the wall of the shower, willing away all perverted thoughts of Draco from his mind.

--

Draco chuckled to himself. He remembered exactly how Harry took his tea; he just wanted to hear his voice.

He had woken up alone, having been deprived of the heat he had when he stirred in the middle of the night. The first time he woke couldn't have been but only one in the morning. Harry was holding him close, running fingers through Draco's hair. He thought the boy was awake at first and he was preparing to tease him, but then he realized that Harry was still fast asleep.

Draco had felt so safe and warm and went back to sleep instantly.

But then when he awoke that morning, the bed was empty and disheveled, as if Harry had left in a terrible hurry. He had started to worry that something had happened, or that maybe Draco had somehow unknowingly upset him, and he decided to interrupt his shower.

Harry was fine of course, and now Draco was left with nothing but the lingering sensation of Harry's warm body.

Draco shook his head. He had no business thinking about Harry's body, especially not when he had not that long ago asked the boy's cousin to marry him. In addition to that, Harry hated him, or at least he used to, and surely that wasn't something that would fade overnight.

No matter how cozy and warm that night had turned out to be.

He heard the shower cut off and quickly prepared the tea and put his best friendly face on. There was no reason Harry needed to know of his inner turmoil.

Draco ran into the bedroom to meet Harry as he emerged from the shower. He was only wearing a fluffy white towel around his waist and it wasn't lost on Draco how fit the boy was, or the fact that he was blushing furiously.

Could Harry be attracted to him?

Draco shook his head. No, that couldn't be. Harry had made it clear the night before that he didn't even _like_ him. Draco practically had to force himself into Harry's bed.

"Er… do you mind? I'd like to get dressed," Harry mumbled, he ran a hand through his raven hair, which still managed to look messy, even though it was soaking wet.

The towel almost dropped with his movement, but apparently Harry had quick reflexes, because he caught it just in time. Draco was concerned by how much that disappointed him.

"I just wanted to bring you, your tea," Draco said quickly, wanting to do anything that would keep him from staring too long.

"Thanks. I'll meet you in the living room when I'm done," he said tersely.

Draco nodded meekly and left, feeling like an embarrassed stalker. Could Harry have made it any clearer that he wasn't interested? Why did Draco feel the need to be near him? Perhaps it was just because he had shielded him from his parents and offered his home for Draco's protection. Maybe it was because he knew Harry was going to help him get his memory back.

Harry emerged moments later, smiling slightly and Draco handed him his tea. He drank deeply from the cup and sighed. "Perfect," he whispered.

Draco caught his brilliant green gaze and was once again reminded of the emerald eyes in is dreams. "Potter?" he asked, seemingly casual. "Did anything happen between us the last time you saw me?" he asked.

Harry shrugged and looked away. "Nothing major, no," he replied.

Draco could tell he was lying. "Well, if you're sure. I know you wouldn't lie to me," he said lightly, hoping it would bring out the truth.

"Why? Do you remember something?" Harry asked quickly.

"I might," Draco began. "I've been having these dreams…" he let his voice trail off, not wanting to admit the possibility he had been dreaming of Harry's eyes.

Harry sighed and sagged into the sofa. "I sort of… saved you. It was the last time I remembered seeing you, though I was a little distracted," he muttered.

Draco perked up. "Saved me how?"

"Well, you were trying to kill me, you and your friends Crabbe and Goyle," he started and Draco blanched. He could remember the boys from his memory of their first day, but couldn't fathom ever wanting the boy in front of him dead.

"We were trapped in this magical room, and the whole place was burning. I got you and one of your friends out, but the other…" he choked on the last words.

Draco's eyes went wide. "Which one? Which one died?" he pleaded.

"Maybe this should all wait for the pensieve. You'll be able to see all the memories for yourself then," Harry said, looking terribly uncomfortable.

As if on cue a soft pop announced the arrival of the Malfoy house elf and Harry looked nervous.

The elf dropped into a low bow facing Draco and looked genuinely terrified. He had with him two tiny trunks and extended them out for Draco to take. "Master Draco, these are the gifts your father sends to you. He is most displeased that you will not return to the manor," the elf mumbled, flinching at his own words.

Draco accepted the small trunks and looked curiously at Harry, who enlarged them instantly. The blonde jumped away, startled by the newly resized items before him. One trunk was almost as tall as him, and the other was squat and wide.

"Thank you," he said to the small creature, which he at once remembered as the Malfoy family servant, Ogg.

Ogg looked up with wide bulging eyes and began to sob uncontrollably. "Master Draco need not thank poor Ogg. Ogg is just doing his job," he bellowed.

Draco looked over at Harry, completely taken aback by the elf's behavior. "Is that normal?"

Harry shrugged. "I've only met a few, but I would say, yes, it's fairly normal."

"Does Master Draco have anything to send back to Master and Mistress?" Ogg asked hopefully.

"Er… no, I'm afraid not. Tell them I'll work very hard to remember everything I can, and not to come again unless I summon them," Draco added with a nod.

Ogg shook his bulbous head in agony. "Most displeased, Lord and Lady Malfoy will be unhappy to hear this indeed," he muttered before disappearing from sight once more.

"Strange creatures, aren't they?" Draco mused.

"Very," Harry agreed wholeheartedly.

They sat in silence for a moment until Draco could no longer take it, so he opened the shorter of the trunks. Inside were piles and piles of clothing, obviously his own, along with a few other trinkets.

The next trunk held a large black stone basin with a mahogany wood cabinet below it. Harry peered over his shoulder and scrutinized the thing that must have been the pensieve. He reached across Draco to open the cabinet doors and brushed his chest along Draco's back, sending a shiver through his body.

Harry turned and their eyes met briefly before he moved quickly away and waited for Draco to open the cabinet.

Draco tried to shake off the yearning for Harry's proximity and reached over to open the small wooden doors. Inside was a box and inside that box were dozens of small glass bottles, each contained a swirling silvery mist that Draco had never seen before.

"What are these?" he whispered.

"Memories," Harry responded, reaching for one and turning it over and over in his palm. "These must be what your father wishes for you to see."

"I see no discernable order to them, and there are so many," he mused.

"Maybe we should start with one of mine and I can get you used to the process, then we can move it all into the bedroom so you can have privacy with your family memories," Harry offered.

"No," Draco blurted. "I want you there too."

Harry narrowed his eyes. "These are very personal, Malfoy. I'm sure your father never intended for me to see them."

Draco shrugged. "If it gets too personal, can you leave?"

Harry nodded slowly. "Yes, I can remove myself from the memory, but it might take you with me."

"That's acceptable. I would rather you be there, just in case."

"In case of what?" Harry asked curiously.

"In case you spot something that might be important. We still don't know _why_ I lost my memory in the first place," Draco added plausibly. The truth was, he just felt safer with Harry, but he knew he had to offer an answer that would seem logical to the Gryffindor.

Harry seemed to think about it but eventually nodded. "You're right. You'll be able to focus more fully on getting your memory back if I take over investigating the rest of it. I _am_ the one with Auror training after all," he added with a fake smug tone, making Draco smile.

"So you'll help me?" Draco asked tentatively.

"I said I would, didn't I?" Harry replied, his face forming a soft contemplative expression.

A twinge ran though his mind and Draco laughed. "Ah yes, I just remembered."

"What?" Harry asked with a puzzled look.

"Gryffindor's always keep their word," he replied.

Harry smiled wider and his eyes sparkled. "Indeed we do."

Authors Note: I love you all, keep reviewing.


	11. Means to an End

Authors Note: Thanks to my brilliant beta Alexandra. This is one of the few stories I'm writing that isn't taking a nasty turn, (at least not soon) so I hope you are all enjoying it.

Chapter 11 Means to an End

"Do you think it's wise to begin with something so traumatic?" Lara asked. She had insisted on being present while Harry and Draco went into the pensieve memories, not that she could have done anything if something went wrong.

"I think it's wise to view the memories in the order Malfoy wishes to view them. If he wants to see how his friend dies, then so be it," Harry repeated for what felt like the fifth time already.

"I just worry that it will be too much for him," she replied.

"Why would it? He's already lived it once, how traumatic could it be simply remembering something that had already happened to him?" Harry asked.

"Hey, I'm still here," Draco interrupted; looking fairly angry that everyone was ignoring his input.

"I'm sorry," they said in unison just as the fireplace flashed green, surprising them all.

Ron stepped out and paled when he noticed Draco sitting with Lara's hand on his leg. "I heard you invited the ferret to stay!" he shouted. "How could you, Harry?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "I'm sure Hermione explained everything perfectly and I'm sure you're also aware that your arguments on the fact won't sway my decision."

It wasn't lost on Harry that Draco visibly relaxed as Harry said these words and he actually moved Lara's hand from his knee.

Ron only huffed and crossed his arms in defiance.

"Lara, maybe you should take Ron to your flat and explain things and then maybe you could take him to lunch," Harry offered, thinking that should keep them out of the way for a few hours at least.

Draco smiled slightly and surprisingly, Lara did to. "I think that's a good idea," she replied, getting up and grabbing Ron's hand.

She pulled him swiftly from the room and Draco sighed in relief.

Harry shot him a perplexed look and Draco blushed. "I feel… weird now."

"You'll have to explain better than that if you want me to understand you, Malfoy," Harry said with a laugh.

Draco rolled his eyes but nodded. "I like her, I really do… but part of me feels like maybe I just asked her to marry me because I was scared. She and Henry had been so nice to me, and I didn't know who I was, and I didn't recognize anyone."

"And now?" Harry asked, prompting him for more information.

"Well, now I'm beginning to feel like I have a chance at finding out who I am and what happened to me. I have you…" he began and then looked startled. "And my parents," he finished quickly.

Harry thought about that briefly. If there was anything he could do to get Draco to break things off with his cousin then Harry had to do it, no matter how potentially embarrassing it might be.

"I think I have a memory that I need to show you first then. It's one of mine, and it won't help you remember anything about yourself, but it might help you with your current dilemma," Harry offered.

"Whatever you think," Draco replied.

Harry took a deep breath and held his wand to his temple. He thought of the specific memories he wanted and pulled them gently from his mind and placed them in the pensieve. He offered his hand to Draco, who looked hesitant at first but finally took it. "When I count to three, stick your head into the liquid as if you wanted to look under its surface. You'll feel a disorienting pull and then you'll find yourself somewhere else altogether. No one else will be able to see or hear you, so don't panic, okay?"

Draco nodded.

"One… two… three." The boys simultaneously put their faces into the swirling silver liquid and it sucked them in quickly. Harry was fairly used to the sensation, since his sixth year lessons with Dumbledore, and he was ready when Draco lost his balance and nearly toppled over.

He caught the boy easily and smiled at Draco's sickly expression. "It'll pass," he said and Draco nodded slowly, and after taking deep breaths some of his color returned.

The scene playing out in front of him seemed like another time. Two oafish looking people were moving about a small kitchen and a fat child came in whining about breakfast, not that he needed to eat, obviously.

Draco didn't understand the relevance or even who these people were until the man went over and unlatched a small door under the staircase. A young Harry climbed out stiffly and set to work immediately preparing food.

"The ending won't make sense without the back story," Harry told him.

Draco only nodded, fascinated by this glimpse into the boy's life, something he felt certain no one had ever _really_ shared with him. Rage filled him at the thought of these lumbering people keeping Harry in cupboard, but he knew there was nothing for it. All these things already happened and Draco couldn't change that. It made it more impressive that Harry was such a strong person, though.

The large man spent the entire time bellowing orders at Harry and demeaning him in front of the other two. He could see Harry's shoulders stiffen, but the boy had no reaction other than that.

The scene shifted in front of his eyes and suddenly a tiny Harry Potter was wandering aimlessly through Kings Cross station looking up at the markers by the terminals. He stopped in between nine and ten and looked curiously back and forth between them. His face formed into a frown and he asked a nearby gentleman for help, but the man just got agitated and walked away. It was then that the younger Harry turned around listening intently to another conversation.

Draco saw a portly red-haired woman surrounded by loads of children. She greeted Harry and helped him onto the platform.

"I made friends with Ron on the train that day, as you recall," Harry said, and Draco nodded. "It was the first time anyone had really been nice to me, aside from Hagrid of course," he continued.

The name rang a bell with Draco and suddenly a giant man with a long shaggy brown beard filled his minds eye. "The gamekeeper," Draco said with a triumphant grin.

Harry nodded and smiled as well. "He's the one who took me away from the Dursley's, those people you just saw. They were my real family, but the Weasley's became more of a family to me than the Dursley's ever had been."

The scene faded away into Harry's first visit to the Burrow. Everyone was friendly and accommodating and Harry was treated like a normal boy, just like one of the other children. Draco watched the real Harry's face as the scene played out. It was alight with emotions of joy and a twinge of what he suspected was regret.

"You miss them, but why? You're still friends with Ron, obviously…" Draco began.

"You'll see," Harry laughed bitterly.

The scene shifted a few more times, each depicting a time when Harry felt at home with the Weasley's and then it suddenly focused in on the youngest girl Weasley. Harry was snogging her senseless in what could only be the Gryffindor common room.

Draco looked over at Harry, waiting for an explanation, but he only held up his hand to signal that Draco should wait.

It was suddenly a funeral, and though Draco recognized Hogwarts, he didn't know whose funeral. There were dozens of people there, and Harry sat next to Ginny. He was breaking up with her, telling her he was about to leave and that he wouldn't put her in danger.

"Even then I knew things would never work between us," Harry whispered beside him, a thick tear streaming down his cheek. "I thought I loved her, but it was just the idea of her I was in love with," he added bitterly.

Draco nodded, understanding now why Harry was showing him this. The scene shifted again and they were in a small flat. Ginny was sitting on the sofa sobbing and Harry was at the other end of the room, arms crossed in front of his chest defensively.

"I don't know why you can't just be normal," she cried. "Everyone else is moving on, but no, not you. You still make yourself suffer."

"I'm not _making _myself suffer, Gin," he yelled. "I _am_ suffering. I feel stuck here, don't you understand?"

"You mean stuck with me, don't you?" she growled. "Go on and say it, Harry. You don't love me."

Both Harrys took a deep breath simultaneously. "I don't love you," memory Harry said.

"So it's true? You like men?" she whispered, clearly shaken.

Harry winced beside him and the memory Harry made a similar face. "Yes," he replied, his tone as quiet as hers was. "I'm attracted to men. I wish it weren't true, but it is."

"If you wish it weren't true, then prove it: stay with me. You'll learn to love me, you used to…" she sobbed.

"I can't use you that way, Gin. I should have stayed away from the beginning, let you live your life. I saw you as a way to get what I always wanted," he said.

"And what's that?" she spat.

"A family. Your parents were always so nice to me, your whole family accepted me when my own didn't and-" Harry began, but Ginny's shrieking voice cut him off.

"You dated me to get closer to my family? You're a sick fuck, Harry Potter. You go through this whole charade, dating me, proposing, and the day before our wedding I catch you making love eyes with Seamus Finnigan. All this pretense, just to get in better with the Weasley family?" she hollered.

"I wasn't making love eyes at Seamus," Harry laughed beside him, and Draco grinned. In spite of the tense situation unfolding before them, Harry was making jokes.

"Ginny, just listen to me. Don't you understand how I was brought up? The Dursley's-" he began, but again she cut him off.

"Harry I loved you, and nothing the Dursley's ever did gives you the excuse to treat me this way," she cried. "We were supposed to get married, we were supposed to have kids and live happily ever after, but no, you'd rather fuck… Draco Malfoy than me," she shouted in anger.

Both Harrys turned red. "I forgot she said that," the Harry beside him whispered. "She was just reaching for names that would make me angry, not because we ever…"

Draco's lips formed into a wide grin. "So you and I were never together?"

Harry's eyes went wide. "Merlin, no. I mean, not that you aren't attractive… I mean, to someone I'm sure, but not me… I mean…" Harry stammered until he finally gave up and just rubbed his temples between his fingers.

Draco chuckled and went back to watching the scene unfold. Ginny was packing a bag and Harry wasn't trying to stop her, which looked like it pissed her off even more. "I don't understand you, Harry."

"I think that's the problem," memory Harry muttered.

She huffed and levitated her bag over to the fireplace and with a green 'whoosh' she was gone.

A moment later, Harry and Draco were being shoved roughly from the pensieve into Harry's flat. Draco was less wobbly coming out but Harry still had to steady him.

"So you left her?" Draco asked.

"Well, she technically left me, but it amounts to the same thing," Harry said with a casual wave.

"The night before your wedding?" he asked.

Harry winced. "I've always had an issue with bad timing."

Draco nodded in understanding. "I can see that about you."

Harry smiled and slugged him lightly in the shoulder, and Draco made a big show of it hurting far more than it ever could have.

"Thanks for showing me that," he whispered at last. "I know it must have cost you something to show me such personal memories."

Harry shrugged. "Whatever helps you," he replied, and for the first time, he realized he meant it. He wanted to help Draco through this and he wanted him to be complete again. Whatever Harry could do to that end, he would.

--

Authors Note: Please review and save a faerie


	12. No one expects the Hermione Inquisition

Authors Note: Thanks as always firstly go to my betas. Shannon and Alexandra are awesome. I also had some extra feedback from my inspiration for this fic, Jayficlover left her mark here to, so I just wanted to make a point to pass the awesome torch to her as well. In fact, I think I'm going to call then TEAM AWESOME! lol. For anyone who hasn't already noticed, I have started new fics called Alluring Lullaby & History Repeats Itself, please check it out and tell me what you think!(I'll also be posting the usual header for these on my other accounts)Also, Cravedom, you should really leave me your email! I would love to answer the questions you've been posting to all of my stories lol

Chapter 12 No one expects the Hermione Inquisition

Hermione was slightly irked as she knocked on the door to Harry's flat. She had tried to floo over earlier and found the connection blocking her out.

Harry answered the door brightly, but his face instantly shut down the moment he saw her. "Mione, come in," he offered.

She maneuvered into the flat and put on her best Mcgonagall glare. "Did you think you were funny?"

Harry looked curiously at her. "Pardon?"

"I'm assuming you blocked the floo on purpose," she said.

Harry laughed. "Oh that. Well, I was a bit miffed at your lack of help last night," he said, shooting a look at Draco, who was sitting in the living room and still well within earshot.

"Oh?" Hermione began, pretending as though Draco wouldn't be able to hear her. "And how did that go? Was there cuddling?"

Harry yanked her sharply by the elbow, pulling her into the kitchen. "Yes," he hissed, a bit embarrassed. "I should still be mad at you, maybe I should make you leave," he huffed.

Hermione stifled a giggle. "Maybe you should thank me," she mused, but Harry only glared at her.

"Regardless, you need to reset the floo wards. What if I had desperately needed to contact you," she said frantically, her original point resurfacing among the thoughts of hot boy cuddling. Somehow she had always known Harry was off limits, but it wasn't until just a few months earlier that she understood the reason behind it.

Harry was gay, and no girl would be able to change that.

Harry only shrugged. "I figured if you really needed me, you would have apparated over… like you just did," he pointed out smugly.

"Yes, but the closest apparition point is still a bit of a walk. That could have cost me precious time if you were in danger," she scoffed.

"Fine. I'll fix them. Did you actually come here for anything aside from telling me off?" Harry asked.

"Yes actually. I wanted to find out how you discerned Draco isn't lying about the memory loss," she asked quickly and quietly.

Harry blushed. "Er… I just sort of believe him."

"Harry really, try to be at least somewhat pragmatic here. He could be lying-" she began, but Harry cut her off quickly.

"He's not."

"But how do you know?" she asked with a searching look. "I think your feelings for Draco might be clouding your vision," she said frankly.

The statement seemed to cause the same reaction as if she had smacked him with a book, and she knew that look well, because she had done just that on many occasions. "My…!? I don't…!! Impossible!" he squeaked in a stutter, as if scandalized.

"Harry, this is no time for denial. I did some inquiries at the Ministry about Malfoy, and I recovered some things that were… not so pleasant."

"This _is_ still Malfoy we're discussing right? I would have been more concerned if you turned up stories about him rescuing abandoned puppies," Harry scoffed, still defensive.

Again Hermione stifled the urge to laugh. "Harry, this is serious."

"Fine, go on," he said, giving her a bored wave.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "A wizard by the name of Elias Acworth told me about a letter he had anonymously received. It was detailing the plan to kidnap you," she hissed, glad to not that she finally had Harry's attention based on his newly ridged stance. "It wasn't signed but they feel certain they know who wrote it based on the handwriting."

Harry was silent for a moment and then his eyes took on an impatient twinkle. "Well, go on. Who do they think wrote it?"

"Draco," she replied without ceremony.

Harry paled and sputtered. "No, that can't be. I don't know why, but Hermione, I just _know_ he doesn't mean me any harm."

"Well, either way, if he's telling the truth, he shouldn't be opposed to some questions… under the influence of Veritaserum."

Harry sighed and sagged against the wall. "You're right. I should have done that right off. I'll go talk to him."

Hermione smiled, pleased with how well Harry was taking the news and watched as he went into the living room and sat beside Draco. They talked quietly back and forth and eventually Draco only shrugged and nodded.

She started a pot of tea and waited for Harry in the kitchen. "I thought if we put some in the tea, it might not feel as intrusive," she offered when he arrived.

Harry nodded and smiled. "Thanks, Mione. It's far kinder than I would have gotten from Ron."

She could feel her eyes clouding over at the mention of Ron's name. "That's because Ron is an insensitive buffoon."

A bark of laughter escaped Harry's lips. "Still mad? I would have thought the infatuation with Vane all night last night would have gotten rid of some of that."

She could feel the blush creep up her cheeks. "We knew each other before, you know? Vane and I. We went to primary school together and I had an enormous crush on him," she said with a small laugh.

"Well, he told me last night that he had liked me, and then when I left, he thought he'd never see me again. It was really sweet. He had no idea why I left until he saw me with you yesterday. He doesn't even care that I'm a witch," she said excitedly.

"Of course he wouldn't. It's in his blood," Harry said. "That's great though…and it helps explain why in Merlin's name you thought it was a good idea to date Ron. Maybe you're just infatuated with red hair," he teased.

Hermione rolled her eyes but laughed. "It really was a terrible idea wasn't it?"

Harry nodded but his mocking words were drowned out by the teapot whistling that the tea was finished. Hermione took three cups and poured tea to each, then the Veritaserum into the last, which she handed to Harry. "Give this one to Draco, I'll carry ours," she instructed and Harry nodded.

Back in the living room, he handed him the cup and Draco sipped from it immediately. When the cup was mostly drained, his face began to scrunch up and contort slightly. He frowned and shook him head. "I feel… odd."

Hermione smiled. "It's beginning to work. You'll feel compelled to answer all of our questions honestly," she told him.

Draco nodded and waited for the onslaught. "Tell us your name," she asked first, trying to establish that it was working.

"Draco Abraxas Malfoy," he replied mechanically.

"And how old are you?"

"Seventeen… almost eighteen."

"Before we found you, had you been planning to hurt Harry?" she asked, her voice firm and unyielding.

"No," he replied instantly and then hesitated. "But… I feel like there is more to that answer… I just don't know what," he sighed.

"Do you know of any plot to hurt me?" Harry amended.

Draco's face once again shifted as he tried to concentrate on the question. "I… I think I might… but I can't remember anything that recent. Older memories come back to me easier."

"How much of your memory do you retain?" Hermione asked.

Draco's face contorted and he seemed to be finding a hard time answering. "Almost everything is fuzzy, just a blur of color and sound in my heard, until Harry says or does something that triggers my memory, then everything in and surrounding that memory gets crisper," he recounted.

Hermione bit her bottom lip and shot Harry an apologetic look. "Has it only been Harry who triggers your memory?"

Harry looked at her incredulously but Draco seemed to think about it. "Yes and no. When I see people, like you and my parents, I remember some things about them, but not important things. It's only Harry though that helps me recover lost memories just by speaking to me about certain things."

"Interesting," she mused.

"How is that interesting? Maybe he only thinks that because I'm the only one who has ever tried to help him remember," Harry corrected, looking a bit agitated.

"Maybe," Hermione replied with a nod. "Malfoy, can you recall the day you were attacked by a hippogriff? We were just outside the forbidden forest and Hagrid was the teacher and Harry had an easy time of riding him, so you thought you'd be cocky and walk right up to it, and it lashed out at you."

Draco listened intently and then seemed to concentrate on her words, but after several minutes shook his head. "I don't remember it," he sighed.

"Harry, you try and get him to remember that same instance," she prodded.

"But-"

"Just try," she huffed.

Harry sighed. "It was in Care of Magical Creatures, third year," Harry began until Draco started blushing. "What?"

"I… remember it. The thing barely grazed me but I made such a fuss over it," he laughed.

Hermione's eyes went wide, but Harry still looked skeptical. "You just didn't give him enough information."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "I think his memory loss is magical, not physical," she said. "I mean, we all had our suspicions, but I think this proves it."

"But what about that brain trauma that my uncle mentioned seeing in the CT scan? Do you think it was also forged with magic?" Harry asked, though Hermione knew he agreed with her assessment, just not the reason why. When he saw her nod, he added, "How does this prove that he didn't just bump his head?"

"The spell cast on Draco was customized so that only you would be able to help him regain his memory," she whispered.

"Rubbish," Harry said after a moment of consideration, rolling his eyes. "All we truly just proved is that you can't get him to remember and I can. That could be true for any number of reasons. Maybe it's because I'm a guy, or because he knows me better, or because he likes me more… as a friend… n-not as," he started stuttering again and eventually groaned and ran his hand through his hair in defeat.

Both Hermione and Draco were smiling widely. "Do you like Harry more," Hermione asked in a teasing tone.

"Yes," Draco answered instantly then his eyes went wide. "How about no one ask anymore questions along those lines while I still have this stuff in my system?" he pleaded.

Harry nodded in agreement, and Hermione could feel a wicked grin spreading across her face. "Do you love Harry?"

Harry's eyes went impossibly wide as he looked at the boy sitting next to him.

"I… I don't know," Draco whispered and Hermione shrugged.

"It's only a matter of time, I'm sure," she said.

"I can't believe you just did that," Harry hissed at her, this time half-considering dragging her towards the fireplace and blocking her floo access, indefinitely.

"What? It's not like I asked him if he wanted to make wild passionate love to you," she added with a smirk that would have rivaled Malfoy's own.

"I d-" Draco started but cut himself off with a hand clasped firmly over his own mouth.

"Hermione," Harry snarled in warning.

"Fine, fine. I'll leave you two be. I think I found out enough to exonerate Malfoy," she said brightly.

"Good, then you can go," Harry huffed.

Hermione only laughed and trailed over to the door. "Be good, boys," she called over her shoulder, before leaving the flat.

--

Harry threw a pillow from the sofa at the closed door. Hermione was such an instigator. Harry should have lied through his teeth when she confronted him about his sexuality.

"I'm sorry about her," Harry told him. "I don't know why she always has to be such an arse."

"She cares about you," Draco replied.

Harry shrugged. "I suppose… I mean, I know she does. Sometimes she just oversteps the bounds a little."

"And you never do?" he asked.

Harry laughed. "I thought you were the one being questioned today. How would you like it if I started asking you all sorts of personal questions right now?" he asked.

"Like what?" Draco asked, looking genuinely curious.

"Do you love Lara?" Harry asked.

Draco winced and shook his head. "I think I can though, quite easily. I just need a little time to get to know her."

"Do you think there might be someone out there better for you?" Harry asked.

Draco shrugged. "I suppose it's possible."

"Does my being gay offend you?" he asked.

"No," Draco said at once and then clamped his mouth shut to keep from saying anything else.

"Have you ever thought about being with men?" Harry asked, his voice was only a whisper and the two boys had moved closer together with every question, so that they were now only inches apart.

"Not until recently," Draco answered.

Harry's breath hitched and he was leaning toward Draco, who at the moment looked quite welcoming. Harry's brain shut down. He was going to kiss him, damn the consequences. He was so close that he could taste Draco's breath on his tongue, warm vanilla with a hint of something more exotic…

Harry heard the sharp click of the door and Draco must have too, because they leapt away from one another like frightened cats.

Harry attempted to look casual but felt like he was failing miserably. Luckily neither Ron nor Lara seemed to notice anything amiss. Lara went and sat on Draco's lap and Ron glowered at the two of them together.

"Did you miss me," Lara asked him.

"Er… I didn't really have the time. Harry kept me very busy," Draco answered.

Harry had to stifle a laugh as the Veritaserum was still working its way through Draco's system, making him be honest. It seemed as though Draco was trying to come up with the most tactful way to say 'no' he could find.

His answer still made Lara frown slightly, but eventually she only shrugged. "Ron and I had fun. He took me out for ice cream," she said brightly.

Harry made a face. "I'm not a big fan of ice cream," Harry replied.

Draco blinked several times and then looked at Harry curiously. "I don't like ice cream either."

Ron rolled his eyes. "Who cares? No one even asked you, ferret."

"Ronald," Lara chastised, and Harry had to do a double take to make sure it wasn't Hermione.

"What? I didn't even threaten him," Ron groaned.

Harry laughed, because it was in fact an improvement on Ron's behavior toward Draco. "Please try to be nice, Ron."

"I am," he huffed.

"How can you not like ice cream?" Lara suddenly asked Draco. "I _love_ ice cream."

All three boys balked at the sudden change in topic.

Draco shrugged. "It makes my stomach hurt."

"You're probably lactose intolerant," she mused. "How sad."

Draco laughed. "Why is it sad?"

"We'll never sit at the park and eat ice cream together," she noted, looking a bit wistful.

Ron came over and snaked his had around her waist. "That's what you have me for," he said.

"Oh, Ron," she teased, surprised, and blushed slightly. "…You're such a good friend," she said smiling; not having expected the red-head's input.

Ron's face fell at the last word and both Harry and Draco had to stifle a snicker. "You'll have to try harder, mate," Harry went to whisper in Ron's ear. "I'm doing what I can from this side," he added, eyes flickering to Draco.

Sure, getting Draco away from Lara was the number one priority, but maybe keeping him for himself wouldn't be a bad bonus for the effort.

Harry shook his head. He couldn't be with Draco, not even if the boy wanted him. He was with Lara, and in no way shape or form would it be appropriate for him to date Draco after that. It would be the same as him trying to date Hermione after she and Ron broke up.

It just shouldn't happen, so Harry wouldn't let it.

Plus, based on the hand rubbing along Lara's thigh, he suspected Draco was straighter than both had allowed themselves to speculate lately.

Authors Note: Harry's fallen into a well, save him with your reviews!


	13. Wrong, Right or Technicality

Authors Note: Thanks to my betas, Shannon and Alexandra who are awesome. I also had some extra feedback from Jayficlover who requested this fic in the start. Yay Team Awesome!

Chapter 13 Wrong, Right or Technicality

"Thanks for meeting with me, Harry," Henry said quietly.

Harry looked around his uncle's office with great interest. On every surface were pictures of his children and his late wife. Lara was by far the majority of the faces shining back at him through the glass frames. It was obvious, just with one glance in this room, how much the doctor adored his daughter.

"Of course, sir. I'm always just a minute away if you ever need anything," Harry replied, and it was true. It took him less than a minute to walk to the same apparition point that Hermione had just been complaining about a couple days ago.

Henry smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. "I trust Mr. Malfoy is safe?" he asked.

"I left him with Hermione, and Ron is out with Lara," Harry replied, knowing that the doctor was more concerned for the safety of his daughter and not so much for Draco.

The doctor nodded and relaxed slightly, leaning back in his chair just a tad. "I heard my daughter mention this friend of yours quite a few of times. He sounds like a decent young man"

Harry smiled widely. "I've known Ron since I was eleven. There is no one in the world I trust more than him and Hermione."

"He seemed to be quite taken with Lara when I met him. Am I mistaken?" his uncle cut to the point, a small smile indicating he already knew that he wasn't. "You think he is better suited for her than Mr. Malfoy?"

"I do, but not for the reasons you might think," Harry started hesitantly. "I think I may have… overreacted… a little when I first saw him."

Henry chuckled. "Really? You think so?"

Harry blushed slightly before continuing. "Don't misunderstand me, the Malfoy I know isn't by any means a nice guy. He's just not as bad as I originally made it sound. Hermione's worried though that there might be some sinister reason for his turning up here like this. So far we haven't uncovered anything to prove or disprove her theory, but when it comes to Malfoy, nothing would surprise me at this point."

His uncle seemed to be considering this and they both sat in silence for a few moments.

"How well do you know Draco's father?" Henry asked suddenly.

Harry winced slightly. "Well enough."

"You wouldn't give him the same trust that you've extended to his son?" the doctor asked, looking more curious than Harry felt comfortable with.

"It's a bit… complicated" he said at last with a sigh. "Where Draco may have had poor intentions, he often didn't actually commit the crimes he was meant to, and those he did, he did to save his parents lives. Lucius on the other hand, was a true Death Eater, and did many horrible things that I'm aware of, and I'm sure even more that I'm not. No matter his apparent politeness the other evening, no sir, I do not trust him,"

"Politeness?" Henry replied sarcastically, a frown forming on his usually calm face.

Harry laughed darkly and nodded. "Believe me, sir. That was Lucius on his best behavior."

"How did you find yourself mixed up with people like him, Harry?" he asked, still appearing distrustful.

"The Malfoy's were the right hand of Voldemort, and Voldemort killed my parents and then sought a vendetta with me. It was rather unavoidable," he replied with a shrug.

"And you still offer his son a place in your home? You still offer to help him?" Henry goaded, on the verge of getting angry.

"Sir, why did you ask me here? Is there something I have done?" Harry asked tentatively, not even sure he wanted the answer.

Henry let out a deep breath Harry hadn't even realized he had been holding. "No, Harry. It's just… Lara is still set on Draco, even after her days spent with Mr. Weasley. I'm getting worried."

"What exactly is worrying you?" Harry asked.

"She's no longer focusing on her career, which she used to. I don't want her to get hurt," the doctor explained. "I don't trust his family, and I'm not even sure I trust _him_ any longer.

"I'm sure she hasn't told you this," he continued, "but when her mother was killed, Lara was the one that took it the hardest. Kept to herself for the longest time. Vane and I did whatever we could to bring her out of that state, but she was never truly back to her previous self. Then Draco appeared and she looked so happy… I didn't want to spoil it for her"

"I understand," Harry nodded, grateful the man had chosen to confide in him with all this. "Well, I know why I don't trust Lucius… but why don't you trust him?" he wondered out loud. He was perfectly happy with the idea of Henry breaking up Lara and Draco, but he was curious at the man's odd behavior.

"He seemed very familiar to me, Harry. I think…" his voice trailed off and he shook his head.

"Trust me, uncle. There is nothing you could say that would make me think ill of you. Even if you're wrong, anything that has you this worked up is worth investigating right?" Harry asked.

"I think he might have had a hand in my wife's death," he said at last.

Harry sighed and nodded. "I had a sinking feeling that the attack on your home was more than just burglars. If it was Death Eaters, then no doubt Lucius could somehow be involved. I just don't know how to prove it."

Henry's eyes widened. "So you knew? You knew it was a possibility and still you let them into Lara's home?"

Harry shook his head, his mind filled with panic. "No, I didn't have any real suspicions until I spoke with Vane afterward. I wouldn't have put Lara in danger like that, I promise you."

Henry took a calming breath and nodded. "Why would someone like this Voldemort, want to kill my wife?"

"I can't even begin to speculate, but from the sounds of things they weren't just after your wife," Harry replied.

"That's true. Lara was pretty badly hurt, but I was only knocked unconscious," he added.

Harry groaned. "With your permission I can have Hermione research it. She can check several Ministry departments for information."

"Please, have her look into it. In the meantime, can you please try to keep Lara and Draco apart?" he asked tentatively.

Harry laughed. "Already on it, sir. They haven't been alone once. Speaking of, unless there is something else, I should probably get back."

"No, Harry, you have been of more help than I have a right to ask. I'm genuinely happy to have found you," he said with a smile.

Harry winced. "Don't say that just yet." The doctor shot him a puzzled expression and Harry continued. "Sir, what if you were attacked because of me?"

"Harry that's nonsense. We only just met you," Henry replied with a laugh.

"But what if… what if Voldemort knew of our connection before we did? I would hate to think that more people, people I didn't even know at the time, were killed because of me," Harry sighed. It took him a lot to push past the guilt he felt whenever he thought about the war. He wasn't sure if he could take another tombstone looming over his conscience.

The doctor got up and placed a gentle hand on Harry's shoulder. "Harry, even if that was the case, it was still no fault of yours. You can't change your blood."

Harry shrugged, not ready to accept that comfort just yet. "I appreciate the sentiment, but let's just wait until we know something. You might feel different then."

"I won't, Harry. You're a good man. Nothing this research provides will say any different," Henry said. "Now. Go and protect my daughter," he added with a laugh.

Harry nodded and left the doctor's office quickly, avoiding the nurses who had crushes on him and walking briskly back to the apparition point.

--

A violent crash from the general vicinity of his flat made Harry run double time up the stairs, bursting into his flat. A quick survey revealed a toppled over bookcase as the source of the noise and a flailing Draco underneath of it.

"What the hell happened up here?" Harry asked, rushing to Draco's side and levitating the bookcase from his frail looking body.

"There was a man… a wizard. He was here and shot a spell at me. I ducked and it hit the shelf instead, sending it careening at me," he panted.

Harry was on full alert, searching the flat for anything off, something that might lead him to a suspect, but he found nothing out of place, and no one was still there.

"What did he look like?" Harry asked as he made his way back to where Draco was still laying limply on the floor.

"Dark hair; though not as dark as yours. He was tall and very thin. He had a jagged scar on his wand hand, and his robes were black. He wore a mask though, so I couldn't see his face," Draco added.

"Perfect," Harry hissed. "I'm finally free of the Ministry and now I have to move because of Death Eaters."

"Where are we moving?" Draco asked, still unmoving on the floor.

"_We _aren't moving anywhere. In fact, you should probably be going back to the manor," Harry huffed, recalling his conversation with his uncle. It would be best all around if Draco weren't staying with Harry. Then Lara couldn't talk to him, Henry didn't have to worry about him and Harry didn't have to think about him naked.

"What?" Draco exclaimed. "But you promised to help me with my memory," he added, trying to get up only to cry out in pain.

Harry was beside him the next instant, his whole mind riddled with concern. "Are you okay?"

"I think I'm broken," Draco groaned.

Harry rolled his eyes, but the concern never left them. "What _specifically_ do you think is broken?"

"I don't know. I hurt all over," he whined.

Harry gently lifted Draco's shirt revealing the faint outlines of bruises that would get worse, fast. They were already starting to color in on Draco's pale skin and they were only minutes old.

Harry levitated Draco back to his bedroom and placed him gently on the bed. "Can you move enough to get undressed?"

Draco's eyes went wide. "Potter, this isn't the time for-"

Harry laughed and held up a hand. "I just need to check over your wounds."

"Right. Sorry," Draco replied, looking suitably chagrinned. "I don't think I can move that much though."

Harry took a deep breath and tried to concentrate as a healer would, as opposed to acting like someone who found Malfoy a delicious morsel to lick all over. Shaking the thoughts away, he pulled Malfoy's shirt carefully from his body, and unbuttoned his trousers, sliding them from his pale legs.

His entire body was riddled with bruises from having the bookcase fall onto him. Harry placed his fingers gently over a particularly nasty bruise on his hip. "Does this hurt?"

Draco winced. "No," he hissed.

Harry rolled his eyes. "Liar."

"Look, isn't it bad enough that I have to lay here half naked, do I also have to admit my injuries to you too?" he asked. "Maybe you should just take me to Doctor Evans," he suggested.

"Why would it be any different telling me where it hurts?" Harry asked impatiently. He knew Henry would be hesitant to see Draco again, let alone treat him.

"Trust me, it's different," he groaned.

"But why? I can heal you faster than he can. How would it be better to go and see him?" Harry asked, not understanding what little Draco gave in the way of reasoning at all.

Draco sighed and closed his eyes. "Harry," he began, and Harry drew a sharp intake of breath at the name. "Do you like for people with whom you are attracted to see you so weak and vulnerable?"

"Well, no, but… oh. Really?" Harry stammered, not quite believing his own ears.

"I thought we've been over this?" Draco asked with an amused smile.

"You mentioned several days ago that you might have thought about it. I hardly took that to mean that you were actually attracted to me. And you haven't said a word since. I assumed you were just confused," Harry said with a shrug.

Draco laughed and winced for the movement. "I am… very confused. I try to think about my fiancée, but thoughts keep drifting back to you," he whispered.

Harry blinked rapidly. "What… what is it you're saying exactly?" Harry asked, his voice deep and breathy.

Draco rolled his eyes and smiled. "I'm saying that maybe you should kiss me."

Harry's lips were on his a second later, pressing them both into the mattress. Draco's mouth was firm and yielding beneath his own, he tasted like warm sunshine, and just touching him made him feel like he was flying. The only other boy he had ever kissed was a muggle he met in a bar shortly after he broke up with Ginny. This was nothing like that was.

This was intimate.

Draco's tongue flicked into his mouth and a deep moan vibrated between them. Harry didn't even know who originated the sound, but it didn't matter. His mind was spinning with hundreds of reasons he shouldn't be doing this, but none of it was enough to make him stop.

The latch on his apartment door alerted them to someone arriving and Harry cursed under his breath. "I really need to start locking that door," he groaned, pulling away from a surprised looking Draco. His lips were red and slightly swollen and Harry longed to kiss them again.

"Oh, my," Lara exclaimed from the doorway. "What happened?"

She rushed to Draco's side, running delicate fingers over the bruised flesh.

"Someone attacked him while I was with your father earlier today," Harry said. "I was just about to start casting some healing charms."

"I should take him to father," she said quickly, but Harry shook his head.

"I've already been over this with Draco. I'm healing him with magic, it will be much faster, and he'll probably even be healed by nightfall. The sooner he's healed the sooner we can track down who did this," Harry huffed.

She took a deep breath and nodded. "You're right. I'm sorry. I was just stopping by before my shift to see if you needed anything," she added, turning her attention onto Draco.

"I'm fine," he replied. "Harry will take good care of me," he added, and couldn't seem to keep the blush from reddening his cheeks.

"I know he will," she said, turning and beaming at Harry. She leaned in and pecked him on the cheek. "He's the best long lost relative a girl could ever ask for," she teased and ruffled his hair on her way out.

Draco waited until he heard the click of the door and smiled up at Harry. "Where were we?" he asked.

Harry sighed and backed away, beginning his healing charms. "Seriously?" he groaned. "If feel like such an arse. She thinks she's marrying you, you know? It's not right."

Sighing from both frustration and relief of his wounds, Draco let himself sink deeper into the bed. "You're right, as usual. I'll just tell her when she gets back in tonight."

Harry shook his head. "We can't. She would be so heartbroken. Did you hear what she just said? I can't just ignore her expectations."

"So what, I could break it off with Lara and you still wouldn't be with me?" Draco asked incredulously.

"I can't hurt her like that. And let's not forget that you have no memories, when you finally get them all back you'll most likely discover your abhorrent hatred of me as well as the fact that you're straight!" Harry replied, trying to stay calm, but not really succeeding.

"How can you say that? If you can change your feelings about me, then why can't I do the same?" Draco asked.

Harry finished his healing spells and leaned against the bed, happy to note that most of the discoloration was already gone. "We tried to kill each other once. Well, I wasn't trying to kill _you_, but I almost did anyhow. But you… you really wanted nothing more then to see me writhe in pain," Harry whispered.

Draco blinked and nodded. "I remember. Sixth year, right?" he whispered, shaking his head. "Merlin, that mindset seems so far away now, like someone else's."

"That's probably only because you can't recall everything else. But once you do, once you remember all the reasons you hate me… what's going to keep you from slipping back into it?" Harry asked.

Draco shrugged. "Nothing I guess… unless you give me a reason to have different feelings for you."

Harry chuckled. "You think it's that simple? You think memories you make with me over a few weeks will cancel out memories you've had of me for seven years?"

"You have, haven't you? And you remember everything," Draco replied.

Harry sighed and crawled into bed beside Draco. "I haven't gotten over everything, and some of my excuses sound weak even in my own mind," he whispered.

Draco twined his fingers through Harry's and frowned. "Like what for example?"

"Like your entire sixth year for instance," Harry chuckled. "I didn't really see you after the night that you almost killed the Headmaster. Not until the day we were captured and brought to the manor."

"Maybe that was the time I decided I was gay?" Draco teased.

Harry rolled his eyes. "Right." He looked over at Draco and ran a tender hand across his cheek, pushing back a tendril of pale blonde hair as he did. "I think that it's more likely, you're just afraid I won't keep helping you unless I feel some sort of deeper attachment."

Draco didn't say a word to contradict it, so Harry nodded and smiled. "I won't go anywhere. I promised to help you, and I will."

"A little while ago you were ready to send me home," Draco pointed out.

Harry grimaced. "Sorry about that. I was a little angry. I promise not to threaten that again, though. You'll be welcome here as long and you want to stay, and I'll keep helping you until your head is full to bursting with memories."

"Okay, fine," Draco agreed and cuddled up beside Harry, wrapping an arm around the other boy's torso. "But that's not the reason I kissed you," he added quietly.

"Technically I kissed you," Harry chuckled.

"Still, it was my idea," he said, rolling his eyes despite them being closed. "I like you, Harry."

"I like you too, Draco," Harry whispered back. He hadn't realized how easy it was to call him that until just then, how smoothly and freely it fell from his lips. He also hadn't realized how much he liked Draco calling him by his given name until that moment. Surrounded with words of endearment, he could almost pretend it was someone altogether different than he had gone to school with.

He could let himself imagine that it was someone who wasn't stricken with memory loss, and wasn't engaged to his cousin, and didn't have a vendetta against him several years in the making. And this person just happened to share his home, his bed and maybe even his heart.

Even though his mind screamed at the wrongness of it, Harry pulled the covers over them and drifted to sleep, curled around this beautiful stranger, who just happened to be called Draco Malfoy.

Authors Note: heeehee. Cute fluffiness. Please review and you'll get...er... a gold star


	14. Outburst

Authors Note: Many thanks go to my beta for this chapter and next, Shannon! I'm attached to my team awesome!

Chapter 14 Outburst

Harry stirred to the sound of snickering.

His eyes flicked open and he looked around the room, finally resting on the slight form of his cousin Lara in the doorway. She had a broad smile across her face and was trying to suppress more laughter. Harry frowned, unsure of what was so funny. _Nothing_ could possibly be that funny so early in the morning.

"You two are so adorable," she cooed, and Harry blushed furiously as he realized the compromising position Lara had caught them in.

Draco was wrapped comfortably around Harry's torso, his head resting on Harry's chest, and Harry had his hands wrapped tightly around the Slytherin boy cuddled against him.

"I'm going to have to lecture your father on not teaching you how to knock," Harry groaned, elated that Lara wasn't taking the sight as badly as she potentially could.

"Oh, I see. Did you want some alone time with my fiancé, Harry?" she teased.

Harry rolled his eyes and tried to pry himself out from under Draco's warm body, only Draco kept holding tighter, cuddling back against him.

"So this is your evil murderer," she joked, gesturing toward Draco's angelic face.

"I know he doesn't look so bad now, but trust me," Harry groaned, still unable to extricate himself from Draco's arms.

"What's he going to do, snuggle me to death?" she teased.

"Very funny. Can I have a hand here?" he asked and Lara came over to help lift Draco from Harry's body.

"Five more minutes," Draco mumbled in his sleep causing the other two to snicker softly.

"If I didn't know any better I'd say you have a crush on my fiancé, Harry," she laughed.

Harry paled and looked away, pretending to adjust his pajama bottoms. "I'm going to take a shower. Would you maybe start some tea?"

"Sure," she replied, slightly less mirthful than before.

Harry pretended not to notice it and shut the bathroom door behind him, hoping Lara would leave his room promptly instead of snoop around and find out about Harry's sexuality the same way Draco had.

--

Draco felt soft kisses being pressed into his cheek and he grinned. "Harry?" he sighed in question.

"Does Harry usually kiss you awake," a voice asked, that was certainly not Harry's and didn't sound even the slightest bit amused.

Draco opened his eyes and narrowed them. "Lara? What are you doing here?" he asked, pulling himself upright.

"Trying to figure out what's going on," she replied curtly.

"Nothing's going on, where's Harry?" he asked, feeling suddenly nervous.

"Why were you so pleased by the idea of Harry kissing you?" Lara demanded.

"Who said I was pleased? I was just dreaming," Draco lied.

"About Harry?" she asked with a scowl.

"Not like that, and so what? I'm allowed to dream about whomever I want," he huffed, pulling himself from the bed and padding out to the kitchen. He didn't want to fight with her, but he wasn't going to keep lying to her either.

"Actually, no, you can't. You're marrying me, Draco. You shouldn't be dreaming about anyone else," she yelled, obviously hurt and angry.

"As if I can help who I dream about?" Draco growled. "And maybe we shouldn't get married, you barely know me." He wasn't sure why he said it, but the words just came tumbling out. All he could think of was Harry and touching his body and talking to him and just being close, and once he thought of the possibilities with Harry he could no longer fathom a relationship with Lara. It wasn't fair to anyone to keep this going any longer.

Lara's mouth fell open and tears welled in her eyes. "I thought you cared about me," she whispered, trying to stifle the sobs that were nearly choking her.

"I do, but maybe we should just think about things," Draco reasoned.

Lara paused, speechless and dumbfounded before bolting quickly out the door. Draco stood in the kitchen and leaned against the icebox, willing his head to stop throbbing and his stomach to stop churning.

"Where's Lara?" Harry asked from the doorway.

"Left," Draco said.

"For how long?" Harry asked, watching Draco's face curiously.

"A long time I imagine," he replied, not meeting Harry's eyes.

It seemed he knew instantly what Draco meant. "You didn't?" Harry asked, but Draco just nodded. "Why? I thought we talked about this?"

"She didn't leave me much of a choice. She was kissing me in my sleep and I thought it was you, _hoped_ it was you," Draco groaned, sliding down the icebox to land on the floor, his head in his hands.

"Shit," Harry muttered, before joining him on the floor.

Draco looked over, giving Harry what he hoped were apologetic eyes. "Did you mean what you said last night? That even if I leave her, you won't date me?"

"I meant it, Draco. I can't, it's too soon, and she'll already be livid with me," Harry groaned.

"So then what's it matter if she's a little more livid with you?" he asked with a charming grin.

Harry chuckled and ran his thumb along Draco's lips. "She's the only family I have," Harry whispered. "And you won't have any either if we do this. Your parents would disown you in a heartbeat."

Draco shrugged and flicked out his tongue, running it the length of Harry's finger. "Maybe you should be my family, and I should be yours," he replied at last.

"Maybe we should just wait and see how much you hate me when you get your memory back," Harry countered, his eyelids fluttering at Draco's touch.

"Maybe we should start with whichever memory you seem to think will turn me away from you," Draco offered, sucking gently on Harry's finger.

"I would be happy to do so, if I knew which memory that was. I have no real idea why you hated me so much aside from the fact that we were in different houses and on opposite sides of the war," Harry mused.

"That's probably because I didn't hate you," Draco replied easily. "I remember being really hurt by the way you rejected me right off that first day. I can't remember hatred though. Even with the one you mentioned last night, when I tried to use an unforgivable on you… I never really wanted to hurt you; I was only scared that you were going to tease me for crying in the bathroom."

"I wouldn't," Harry corrected, shaking his head in dismay.

"I know that now, but the old Draco didn't," he replied, looking a bit sullen.

Harry looked at him and ran his thumb over Draco's face again, trailing it over his cheek and threading his fingers through his silky blonde hair, and then pulling him into a soft and gentle kiss. It was magical, the way Harry felt, the way he tasted and a shiver ran through him. He laced his fingers through Harry's raven locks and pulled him closer, never wanting to let go.

Out of everything Draco discovered since waking up in the hospital, these moments he spent with Harry were the only things that felt right.

When Harry pulled away it was like someone sucking the air from his lungs and it took Draco a moment to recover. "I'm not ruling this out, I'm not even sure I could if I wanted to at this point. But I can't do this with you right now. I need to make amends with Lara before I can even think about us," he said.

Draco nodded, temporarily content that Harry was even using the word 'us'. He saw the reason to the boy's decision he just didn't like it.

They got up, and Harry made tea while Draco showered. He let the hot water trail over his skin, letting it wash away the villainy he felt at being so rude to Lara. It would all be worth it though, he thought, if he could walk away with Harry in the end.

He didn't know what it was, but something about the boy drove him crazy and made his whole world do flip-flops in time with his stomach.

When Draco emerged from the shower he found Hermione and Ron sitting on the sofa across from Harry. "You might want to give her some time, mate," Harry was warning Ron, who looked like he was about to leap up to go comfort Lara.

When his blue eyes settled on Draco, he looked murderous. "How could you do that to her?" Ron howled, closing the space between him and the Slytherin with a few short steps.

Draco put his hands up in defense, trying to ward off the red head. "I thought _you_ of all people would be pleased."

"You hurt her," Ron growled.

"No matter how I broke it off she would have been hurt, Ron," Draco said.

He didn't know if it was the words, or the fact that he called his supposed rival by his given name, but Ron looked shocked and then relaxed slightly and went to sit beside Hermione again.

"So I brought these floo records," Hermione interrupted, handing out a stack of parchments to each of them. Draco sat across from her and rubbed the length of his leg against Harry's as he did. A slow smile inched across Harry's face as he took his stack from Hermione.

"These will show us everyone in contact with the Malfoy Manor via floo for the month before and after Malfoy's disappearance," she stated calmly. "I thought we could look through them and see if anything stood out as suspicious."

"Good idea Hermione," Harry said with a nod and began flipping through the parchments, one by one.

--

Research was never his forte, and even less so when he had other things he would rather be doing, which was always. But even more so now.

Ron looked around at his friends and Malfoy, all seemingly absorbed in the task and he let his mind wander to Lara and what he still considered their first date.

When he took her for ice cream, she had been the loveliest thing, wearing a little baby blue sundress, her hair falling in soft red curls and her eyes, how they glittered like jewels in the sun.

She ordered chocolate, and Ron ordered the same. He had been so embarrassed when Lara reached over, giggling, and wiped some of the dessert from his lips with her thumb. He hadn't known what he was thinking, or even _if_ he was thinking, but he kissed her.

He leaned in and pressed his chocolaty lips to hers and kissed her.

What surprised him most though, was that _she_ kissed back. It was short and sweet and the moment they broke apart they were both blushing crimson. Then her face fell and she started backing away.

"I can't Ron. I'm so sorry. You're such a sweet guy, and that was wonderful, but I'm engaged. This is wrong," she cried, looking torn and distraught.

"He's no good for you, Lara," he tried convincing her, but she only shook her head.

"Could you please take me home?" she asked quietly, and he could only nod and lead her from the quiet park where they had been sitting.

He quietly berated himself the whole way back for ruining things. Then when she called him a friend later that night all hopes went out the window that he would ever see her again.

Then a day or so later Harry's owl tapped on his window and Ron went to see what his friend had written him, but found the note was from Lara instead. She said what happened couldn't happen again, but that she still wanted to be friends and Ron was eager to take what he could get.

So they hung out several times, Ron even met her father when he had lunch with her one afternoon at the hospital. They always had a good time, laughing and teasing one another, and Ron secretly hoped things would change between them now that Malfoy broke it off with her.

"Merlin, you can cut the sexual tension with a knife," Hermione muttered, pulling Ron from his thoughts.

Ron looked over at her, completely baffled. "I'm not interested in you anymore, Mione, I'm sorry but-" Ron began to protest, but Hermione only rolled her eyes and pointed to Harry and Draco.

"Not you and me, Ronald, them," she hissed quietly.

Ron gaped, eyes wide, and watched the two for a moment as they looked over the parchments. They weren't looking over their own individual documents, but rather sharing. Their hands grazed over one another's lightly as they turned a page, and occasionally one of them would snicker or blush at something the other whispered.

Ron paled, completely horrified. "You don't mean… no, it couldn't be… impossible… he's Malfoy," Ron whispered at last, finally drawing the attention of the other two boys.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Ronald, honestly, sometimes you are so naïve."

"Harry? It's not true is it?" Ron pleaded in whimpering tones.

"What?" Harry asked, looking perplexed.

"You never looked at my bum or anything did you mate?" he asked, looking paler and paler by the moment.

Harry frowned. "No, what are you talking- Hermione?" he shouted as everything seemed to click into place. "What in Merlin's name did you say to Ron?" he demanded.

Hermione waved him off with a shrug. "I was just speculating, and he took it all out of context," she said.

Ron sighed. "So Harry's _not_ with Malfoy," he said with relief.

"No, I'm not," Harry agreed, shooting an odd glace over to Malfoy.

"But he wants to be," Hermione added with a smirk, to which Harry said nothing and glared at her petulantly.

"You… you can't mean it," Ron stammered. "I mean, he's _Malfoy_, and he's a _boy_," he added.

"I've noticed that, Ron," Harry replied.

"But you still… I don't understand." Ron mumbled, shaking his head. "Harry, are you gay?" he finally asked, still gaping.

"He doesn't know?" Draco asked Harry, and Harry shook his head.

"Malfoy knows and you didn't tell me?" Ron demanded.

"I didn't _tell_ Draco," Harry replied.

"So it's Draco now?" Ron yelled.

Harry rolled his eyes. "You can call him whatever you want, but yes, to me he's Draco, but no we're not together," he huffed.

Ron took a deep breath and let it out slowly, calming his temper. "Well, so long as you're not dating Malfoy," he sighed.

"Not yet," Draco corrected.

"What?" Ron yelled.

"If I get my way, he'll be dating me very soon," Draco replied, ignoring the scolding look from Harry's direction.

Hermione snickered and sat back, captivated by the show.

"Oh, no he won't," Ron shouted. "Our Harry doesn't date death eaters,"

"Well, I'm not a death eater, and soon enough _your_ Harry will be _my_ Harry," Draco added with a wink.

"If you have no memory, how come you seem to recall the best way to be a sniveling ferret?" Ron taunted.

"I just remember that a Malfoy always gets what they want, and _I_ want Harry," he replied.

"Stop calling him that!" Ron shouted, his face turning a vibrant red to match his hair.

"Ron, Draco, that's enough," Harry boomed, his power wafting through the room like air that had gone too thick with fog.

"Ron, I'm gay and you're just going to have to come to terms with that, and if I choose to date Draco, you'll have to deal with that too. I understand if you need a little time," Harry said softly, but clearly.

"And you," he said, rounding angrily on Draco. "I won't be dating the arrogant trouble making _Malfoy_, are we clear?" he asked, and Draco nodded reluctantly, a small smile still playing on his lips.

Harry nodded curtly and stormed back to his room, turning around to glare at Hermione. "Don't think I forgot about you either. You're one more instigation away from being banned from my flat, Hermione," he shouted before slamming the door.

Ron huffed and paced the living room before leaving the flat to visit Lara. He had been accosted with too much information, but the only good thing that had come from it, was that he was certain that Lara and Malfoy would not be getting back together.

Authors Note: lets see how many cheers I get for Lara's short departure...


	15. Distractions

Authors Note: *** To anyone who hasn't already seen, I've posted a new Oneshot called Only Fools Rush In. It's quite long, so be warned. Don't get me wrong, I love Lara, and she'll get her own happy ending, just not with Draco. Thanks to Shannon who has been working as beta on this story since the beginning! Also, I've started a yahoo group for anyone who wishes to join which I will be using for various things related to my fiction including update alerts, story/chapter discussion and other things. If you're interested you can join at groups dot yahoo dot com/group/Digitallace/

Chapter 15 Distractions

Draco padded quietly to Harry's bedroom door. He had just said his goodbyes to Hermione, who was in a bit of a hurry to leave after Harry's outburst. Ron was probably over at Lara's spilling Harry's secret and that infuriated him. He would rather Lara take out her anger on him rather than Harry who, despite a couple brief lapses in judgment, was actually trying to put her before his own happiness.

Though his perception so far, and everything he _could_ remember about Harry, told him that this was not an uncommon thing for Harry to do. It seemed that what Harry wanted was almost always secondary to what the people he loved wanted.

He knocked once and waited, but no answer came so he knocked a second time and was greeted with a shouted 'go away' from inside.

"Harry, it's me. Please open up," Draco called through the firmly shut door. It was times like these he missed his wand. Though he only remembered a few spells, and usually only noticed that his was missing when Harry used magic, which wasn't a lot. Harry seemed to like doing certain things without the use of a wand.

Draco was about to give up and go back to the living room, allowing Harry to sulk in peace, when he heard the click of the door unlocking and looked up to see a pair of brilliant green eyes staring back at him.

"I'm sorry," Draco whispered before Harry could tell him to bugger off.

Harry nodded, a frown still etched into his forehead making his scar look lopsided, but he opened the door a little further to allow Draco passage inside. He paced over to the bed and sat sullenly on the edge of it, not meeting Draco's gaze.

"You just had to push it didn't you?" Harry muttered and Draco went to sit beside him, happy when Harry didn't move away.

"I really am sorry. I just… it didn't seem like you were going to tell him and I started getting upset," Draco replied.

Harry shook his head. "I wasn't going to tell him," he huffed.

"Are you ashamed of me? Is it like Ron said? Harry Potter's too good to be with a death eater?" Draco asked, getting up and moving to the other side of the room. He felt the air escape him and his eyes betrayed him as tears welled to their surface.

"Merlin, no," Harry shouted, watching Draco from across the room. "It's all about baby steps with Ron. It took him seven years and several temper tantrums before he came to terms with his feelings for Hermione. I was just going to let the first bit of news settle in before I threw in the other. I think it was Hermione that put it best when she said Ron has the emotional depth of a teaspoon," Harry muttered.

Draco sighed and nodded. He could understand that, and most of him had, but then there was that part of him that thought Harry was keeping it from his best friends because he never intended for anything to happen between them. "And you and I?" Draco asked tentatively, not sure what Harry's answer would be.

"Have a lot of work to do," Harry grumbled. "I've been neglecting your memories and I think we should get back to them right away. Until you're one hundred percent I don't feel like we can possibly pursue a relationship."

Draco looked at him incredulously. "You really think I'm going to change my mind?" he asked, feeling the first stirrings of anger boiling under his flesh.

"Look at how quickly you changed your mind about Lara," Harry noted and Draco gaped.

"That's not the same thing at all and you know it," Draco shouted and Harry merely shrugged.

"What happens if we're looking through your memories and it turns out you were in love with someone else? Will you just drop those feelings and decide to be with me instead?" Harry asked. "_Or_, what if your parents already have someone picked out for you to marry? Did any of this ever occur to you?"

Harry made frustratingly good points and Draco was unwilling to hurt Harry as he had Lara, so he supposed he had to give, but he didn't like it. In fact, the very thought of letting Harry win an argument seemed to go against his very nature, but he steeled himself and nodded curtly. "Fine. Then lets get this over with so that I can fuck you already," Draco grumbled.

A shocked bark of laughter escaped Harry's lips and he gaped at Draco's boldness. "Who says _you'll_ be the one doing the fucking?" Harry asked, a wide grin plastering his face.

"Really Potter, you didn't think I was going to be the bottom did you?" Draco asked haughtily.

"I hadn't actually thought about," Harry replied, still unable to wipe the crooked grin from his face.

"Liar," Draco challenged.

Harry blushed furiously and looked away, eliciting a deep chuckle from Draco. He stalked over and straddled the raven-haired boy, suckling the skin beneath Harry's ear. "So tell me, Harry," Draco whispered against his ear before biting the lobe lightly. "Who's doing the fucking in your fantasies?"

The Gryffindor shuddered violently beneath him, breathing soft moans of pleasure against Draco's touch. "You," he finally whispered and Draco grabbed his face roughly in response, kissing him deeply, letting his tongue show Harry exactly what he had in store for him when the time came.

Draco ground his cock against Harry's lap and felt the immediate response as Harry arched up to meet him, and pressed himself more fully against Draco's body. Harry's head fell back, his lips parted slightly as Draco drove his hand between them, massaging Harry's erection through his jeans.

"Fuck," Harry whimpered as he pushed into Draco's hand and dug his fingers into the firm jean clad thighs still draped over his own.

"My pleasure," Draco whispered against his neck, nipping and licking the soft flesh.

"Wait," Harry breathed and scurried backward, away from Draco's urgent lips, leaving Draco to nearly fall to the floor.

"You're really quite stubborn," Draco huffed, shifting his trousers to better accommodate his erection.

"So I've been told," Harry replied, still trying to catch his breath, but looking deeply apologetic.

Draco rolled his eyes and folded his arms over his chest. "Well, you might as well get off of the bed since we're not going to get off _in_ the bed."

Harry chuckled and slid off to stand in front of Draco, pulling him into a soft kiss. "Sorry," he whispered afterward, still clutching Draco's sharp hips.

"Tease," Draco grumbled with a smirk.

"So it's true then?"

Harry and Draco looked over in unison to see Lara standing in the doorway looking very violent and heartbroken. Draco tired to step away but Harry held him firmly against his own body. "If you're referring to my having feelings for Draco, then: yes, it's true," Harry replied.

Her gaze drifted to Harry's face, and then down to his hands, still holding Draco intimately close. "How long have you been fucking my fiancé, Harry?" she growled.

"We haven't," Draco blurted and regretted it immediately when Lara's angry eyes fell on him instead.

"Please. You expect me to believe that? Look at you both. You're all rumpled and nearly salivating," she scoffed.

Harry cringed and let his hands fall from Draco's waist. "Lara, I swear we haven't done anything more than kiss."

She shook her head and Harry saw the wet trails on her cheeks and the redness of her eyes. "I expected more from you, Harry," she said, he voice quivering with a new wave of tears.

"I know you did, and I couldn't be more sorry," Harry replied sullenly.

"So now you're just going to date him?" she asked, a furious sadness emanating from her body.

"No," Harry and Draco both responded in unison. "I'm going to help him get his memory back and then we'll see what happens," Harry replied.

She looked up then, a bit shocked at Harry's words. "You're not going to date him now?"

Harry shook his head. "No. I still feel the same way as I felt when _you_ were dating him. We can't be certain of things when he doesn't have all his memories."

Draco nodded and sighed. He had accepted Harry's terms so there was no reason to balk at them now in front of Lara. "We didn't want to hurt you," he added. "Harry was adamant about making sure you were okay with it before we did anything."

"And if I'm not?" she asked suddenly, turning to Harry. "If I asked you not to date him?"

Her eyes were a brilliant green and just looking at her tear streaked face he was reminded of his mother. Harry winced and looked back and forth between them. On one side, Draco Malfoy, his oldest enemy turned potential love interest, and on the other side Lara, one of his only living family members that still spoke to him and didn't treat him like a leper.

"Lara," he whined. "Please don't make me choose."

The injured animal look spread across her face and she nodded. "You would choose him," she said, more a statement than a question.

"I didn't say that," Harry amended.

"You didn't say _anything_," Draco said, looking equally hurt.

Harry ran his hands through his hair and bit down hard on his bottom lip to keep from screaming. "Stop it, both of you. This isn't fair. I won't be making a decision either way until Draco gets his memory back. Why don't we discuss this then?" he said firmly.

"Do you really think you can live with him, sleep with him every night and nothing will happen?" Lara demanded. "Ron said you were flirting with each other all day. I _saw_ you kiss, what more is there to dating aside from actually fucking?"

Harry paled and Draco felt a smug grin plaster his face. Harry was _already _dating him. Lara was right.

"I… we're not dating. Dating has to be a conscious thing," Harry protested.

"She has a point, Harry. We see each other all day every day, we even sleep in the same bed, we're admittedly attracted to each other, what else is there?" Draco asked, closing the gap between him and Harry and snaking his arms around the other boy's waist.

Harry stared at him incredulously and then finally shugged his indignation. "Fine. We're dating. Are you happy now?" he demanded, a subtle smile pulling at the edge of his mouth.

"Yes," Draco said with a nod. "Very."

"Well I'm not," Lara scoffed. "Harry, I want you to leave him. Send him back to his parents."

"What?" both boys shouted in unison.

"You've already proven that he can't stay here without you dating him and I don't want you dating my ex," Lara replied.

Draco clung tighter, willing Harry to tell her to back off, but knowing that he wouldn't. "Maybe he doesn't want you dating _his_ best friend," Draco countered and Harry scowled at him.

"Stop making it worse," Harry hissed in his ear. Lara however blanched and nodded.

"Fine, you're right, Harry. Maybe we should just calm down and think about things for a couple days," she said softly.

Draco could feel Harry relax in his arms at her words and his grin was infectious. "Thank you, Lara," he said and his cousin nodded curtly and left.

After a few minutes of silence, Draco rounded on Harry. "So did you mean it?"

"Mean what?" Harry asked innocently.

Draco rolled his eyes. "Did you mean what you said, that we're dating?"

Harry leaned forward and placed a delicate kiss on the corner of Draco's mouth. "Yes, I meant it."

Draco pressed against him and pushed him toward the bed. "Does that mean what I think it means?" he asked with a seductive wink.

Harry's eyelids fluttered at the sound of Draco's voice and he didn't resist as Draco lowered him gently to the mattress. They kissed gently at first, but as their hands roamed across each other's bodies, pulling at clothing and grazing against bare flesh, their lips became more urgent.

Draco looked down hungrily at Harry's bare muscled chest and abdomen. It was lightly tanned and honed to perfection. He guessed that Harry had let his Quidditch training lapse since leaving Hogwarts to become a war hero but it didn't show.

His eyes widened at the thought and a slow smile crept across his face. "Harry, I remember Quidditch."

Harry beamed up at him. "Really? Just now?"

Draco nodded. "I remember every lesson and every game."

"How?" Harry asked curiously, tracing slow velvety patterns across Draco's jean clad legs.

A faint blush colored Draco's cheeks. "I assumed it was what made your body so damn sexy."

"I can't remember the last time I played Quidditch. No, these are from Auror training," he said, poking at his abdomen and chuckling. "Grueling stuff, Auror training."

Draco dropped down to trace his tongue along the lines of Harry's torso, looking up every now and again to see Harry's eyes flicker closed and his lips part in a soft moan. "Is that why you stopped? Too hard," Draco asked after tracing every line he could see.

"No," Harry replied with a pout, both from the accusation and the loss of contact.

"Then why?" Draco asked, genuinely curious. He wanted to know things about Harry, his innermost thoughts and secrets, things he would never even tell Weasley and Granger.

Harry sighed and looked away. "They wanted a mascot. Someone to show the wizarding world that the Ministry was good and right and just, and who better to do that then the boy who killed Voldemort?"

"Who indeed?" Draco replied. "What's so wrong with that?"

Harry glowered at him, but softened his face immediately. "Sorry, I forget that your memory is less than it's best at the moment." He sighed and sunk heavily into the mattress, Draco's weight on his legs a deep comfort.

"Well all through school they slandered me, telling the _Prophet_ that I was a crazy attention seeking child, but then when they realized I was right their stance changed and suddenly they wanted me at their side. 'The Ministry' against Voldemort, when really it was just _me_ against Voldemort. I learned early on that the Ministry was corrupt and mostly wrong and terribly unjust at a very early age," Harry said, staring up at him, his eyes sparkling with an emotion Draco couldn't name.

"They offered me the Department Head position right out of training and I knew that if I stayed, I would be nothing but a figurehead for the rest of my life, and my being there, my name attached to the Ministry's decisions, would make it easier for them to get away with even more corruption," Harry finished with a shrug.

"So you quit?" Draco asked.

Harry blushed slightly. "I left."

Draco's eyes widened. "You just turned tail and hid from them? Harry they can't touch you, not without inciting another war. No one would stand for it."

"I know, but it's just easier this way," Harry replied with another shrug.

"Easier for who?" Draco asked. Yet again, Harry's true nature came forth in that he would rather live in hiding then to cause anyone, even the Ministry, discomfort.

"For everyone," Harry replied.

Draco pressed the length of his body against Harry's and kissed him deeply; trying to distract him from the serious conversation he had started. He hadn't meant for things to get so glum, and even though Harry returned the kiss, he could tell the raven-haired boy's heart wasn't in it in the same.

He rolled over to Harry's side and kicked his leg over to cover both of Harry's. Harry smiled and snuggled into him, pressing tender kisses into Draco's cheek. He could stay like that for hours, just holding Harry in his arms and kissing his sweet mouth.

"I think we got distracted," Harry whispered against his cheek.

Draco chuckled and nodded. "I think we did. I think we should pick it back up tomorrow, what do you say?" Draco added with a wink.

"It's a date," Harry chuckled and sank deeper into Draco's arms.

--

Authors Note: hehehehe. This chapter makes me giggle. If you don't review, I might just bring Lara back to create more havoc!


	16. Guilty Until Proven Innocent

Authors Note: Many thanks to my beta Shannon (GothiBlackRose) for her work on this chapter.

Chapter 16 Guilty Until Proven Innocent

Draco rolled over and grazed fingertips over the bed beside him, finding it empty.

He listened for a moment and when he heard the shower running he slipped out of bed, padded over to the bookcase and removed a thin black book from amongst the heavier volumes on the shelf, the same that had given Draco his insight into Harry's sexuality.

With small curling script he wrote down three items.

_Runespoor Eggs_

_Asphodel_

_Peppermint_

All were potion ingredients that he had just had a vivid dream about, and he added them to the list of almost a dozen others, completing the list he'd been seeing in his mind over the past three nights. He slipped the book back into its hiding place and went over to the bathroom door, opening it carefully and sneaking inside.

"Draco," Harry called. "Is that you?"

"I was trying to surprise you," Draco muttered with a pout, sliding behind the curtain that had previously kept the Gryffindor out of sight.

Harry grinned and pulled him under the spray, not hesitating for even a second before kissing him deeply. Draco was surprised by how easy these moments with Harry felt and every time he found himself falling into Harry's arms it was a relief that they were still outstretched to catch him.

They pressed together, Harry's already soapy body slipping against his, and Draco grabbed hold of Harry's earlobe with his teeth. He had learned the night before how sensitive Harry's ears were and was eager to hear the raven-haired boy moan for him again.

It didn't take long for Draco to get his wish and within moments Harry was pressing his erection into Draco's stomach and his eyes were fluttering closed. Draco's lips trailed a hot line across Harry's jaw and neck pulling that moan he was craving from Harry's throat. "I see you had an ulterior motive for getting in the shower," Harry rasped.

"Slytherin's are all about the ulterior motives," Draco replied before being pinned against the tile wall.

"Well, maybe I'll just have to wash the Slytherin off of you," Harry informed him, lathering his hands with soap.

"Good luck," Draco responded with a smirk.

Harry grinned and rubbed his hands slowly and sensually up and down Draco's arms, paying extra attention to his long fingers and then started working up a bubbly mass on Draco's chest and stomach before slipping down to grip his cock.

Draco's head lolled back at the touch and he let his passion flood through him as Harry stroked him with slick soapy hands. He came with a sudden groan, the orgasm taking him completely by surprise as Harry gripped him firmly and kissed him roughly.

He returned the kiss with full force, letting his tongue slide along Harry's teeth and bottom lip and savoring the flavor that was distinctly Harry. When they broke apart, Harry's emerald eyes were the color of a deep forest, darkened by his smoldering lust.

"Oh, silly me," Draco whispered. "I seemed to have dropped the soap, I guess I'll need to pick it up," he teased, his voice breathy and deep in Harry's ear.

Emerald eyes widened at the joke, as Draco licked along his jaw before bending over and rubbing himself against Harry's swollen prick. "Draco," Harry whispered in protest, but the blonde shot up and whirled on Harry, pressing his finger over his parted lips.

"I'm tired of waiting," Draco told him, and it was the truth. Something always seemed to come up, or get in the way of their love making for the past several days. All they had been able to do was sneak in a rushed grope or a hurried make out session since Lara had walked in on them a few nights before.

The rest of their time had been spent with the pensieve and going over memory after memory, or going through documents Hermione had managed to secure from the Ministry in order to solve the reason behind his memory loss. Time was even allotted for damage control in which they set up nice dates for Lara and Ron.

But no time had been made to spend quality time _alone_ together and part of that had been Draco's fault. He had been avoiding any real intimacy for a few reasons, first because he'd never had any sort of sex before, least of all with another man, but Harry had quelled his fears with his soothing and gentle nature. He knew Harry would never ever hurt him and that knowledge alone eased his mind, but the other reason was much more complicated.

"Fine, but I'm not taking your virginity standing here in the shower, not like this," Harry told him.

Draco rolled his eyes but his lips betrayed him, forming into a subtle smile. Harry's gentle and moral nature always won out, and he should have been expecting it, but it always seemed to take him off guard. He loved that Harry wanted only the best for him, but he hated that he was starting to think he didn't deserve it.

Harry led them, still soaking wet, from the bathroom and back into the bedroom. He lowered Draco to the bed, stretching his hands above his head and ran his fingernails slowly down Draco's outstretched arms. He could feel his entire body quivering beneath Harry's firm weight and he smiled up into his boyfriend's smiling face.

Draco pulled Harry to him and kissed his already swollen lips, silently pleading for him to take the next step. He could feel Harry's entire body tense up and he ran long fingers through Harry's ebony mane, trying to calm him. "Harry, are you okay?"

The Gryffindor shot him a nervous smile and shook his head. "I've never done this before," he admitted softly.

The urge to laugh was hard for Draco to resist. All this time he had been worrying over whether or not he was going to meet Harry's expectations, whether or not he would be any good to someone with Harry's experience, when in fact Harry was just as clueless as Draco.

"So, the books?" Draco asked with a smile.

"Research," Harry replied.

"And the quiet confidence?" Draco asked, feeling as though they should have had this conversation long before ending up naked and awkward in bed.

Harry shrugged, his grin widening. "I figured it would just come naturally, but I'm so fucking nervous I can't stop shaking," he chuckled.

Draco had never been so in love with anyone as he was with Harry in that moment. Brave, confident, hero Harry was sexy as hell, but there was something altogether different about shy, vulnerable, human Harry that made Draco fall so hard it almost physically hurt.

"Come here, you," Draco whispered with a low chuckle and pulled Harry down to him, rolling their bodies so that Draco was straddling Harry's hips. He took Harry's fingers into his mouth and sucked on them one at a time, relishing in the lust clouding over his lover's brilliant green eyes.

"Stretch me," Draco instructed, and Harry's eyes widened slightly before doing as he was told, working a lubed finger slowly into Draco's arse. The Slytherin bit down on his lower lip, trying to fight the urge to cry out with the mix of pleasure and pain coursing through his body.

Once the second and then third fingers were inside him he felt ready for Harry's thick throbbing cock, or at least as ready as he'd ever be. He positioned himself and began to bear down on Harry's slick prick, grimacing against the pain shooting up his spine, sending all his nerve endings on edge. He blinked away the traitorous tears at the corners of his eyes, but not soon enough that Harry didn't notice.

"Does it hurt?" Harry asked cautiously, his own slight movements paused. He had been carefully holding as still as possible and letting Draco impale himself upon him at his own pace.

"No," Draco lied. "Well, not like you think," he amended with a forced smile.

Harry immediately tried to pull away, but Draco clamped around him and pinned him roughly to the bed. "We're doing this," he rasped.

"I don't want to hurt you," Harry pleaded, his voice breaking.

"You're not," Draco assured him, and pushed himself further onto Harry's erection. He wasn't going to stop, he would put up with this pain as many times as he had to in order to assure Harry that it was fine, he would learn to accept it, maybe even like it one day.

Harry dug into his hips, his eyes rolling back, his body arching, and the look of Harry's pleasure in that moment would have been enough to make it all worth it, but that one movement sent Harry just slightly deeper and rubbed against his prostate and Draco thought he would scream out.

Stars burst behind his eyes and he raked his nails along Harry's chest, trying to gain purchase in the milky flesh. "Fuck," he moaned, and Harry's eyes snapped open, a slow grin forming on his face.

"Better?" he asked, still cautious, but something on Draco's face must have assured him that it was okay.

"Perfect," Draco hissed, and raised himself up only to fall back onto Harry's cock again, this time only a dull ache resounded in the instant Harry breached him, easily wiped away by the deafening pleasure of the deeper movement.

Harry cried out, his nails making tiny half-moons in the Slytherin's pale skin, as Draco rode him. A few minutes later and Harry was shouting Draco's name and shuddering beneath him, and Draco nearly collapsed from his own release, which took him off guard yet again while he was watching Harry's beautiful face contort under the weight of his orgasm.

"Merlin," Harry rasped, gasping thickly.

Draco couldn't even begin to find words for the sheer gravity of emotions and feelings running through his mind, least of all the guilt from his own dishonesty. He slowly raised himself off of Harry and fell to his side, running pale fingers through the mess on Harry's chest and stomach.

He chuckled lightly and started drawing pictures through the sticky clear liquid until it slowly dried out and left Harry grimacing. "Now I need another shower," Harry teased.

"Maybe a nap first," Draco amended and let his eyes fall shut, willing Harry to let him just lay there all day instead of get up and look at more memories.

He got most of his wish, since Harry fell nearly instantly to sleep beside him. He had another dream before waking up for the second time that day. The potion ingredient list floated in front of him, and then quickly the scene dissolved into a dark forest, where he followed a glowing specter of Harry through the wood and into a circle containing more glowing forms, most of whom were shrouded and unknown to him, but some he recognized instantly, like the large oaf Hagrid, his mother and Aunt and even Voldemort.

When he woke up in a cold sweat, he found Harry still slumbering peacefully beside him and he kissed the boy softly on the cheek. The Gryffindor stirred and muttered something unintelligible and Draco chuckled lightly, pulling him closer and drifting into a less fitful sleep.

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Harry was ecstatic.

Over the past week things just seemed to begin falling into place. Ron and Lara were seeing more of one another and Lara, though she still wouldn't speak to him directly, was slowly coming around to forgiving Harry for his betrayal.

Hermione had been on her best behavior since Harry reprimanded her, even bringing Vane over once or twice to visit with Harry in lieu of Lara since she was giving him the cold shoulder.

The best of it though was Draco. His progress with the memories was nothing short of miraculous, and they had already worked through most of the big memories, including the final battle, which they had just witnessed the night before, bringing Harry to his current reason for joy.

In his hand was a thin wooden box with intricately carved snakes on the cover. He had forgotten all about it, tucked safely away in one of this many bookcases. He hadn't intended on ever giving it back, never thought there would be a want or even an opportunity. But suddenly Harry had both the want _and_ the opportunity to return it to its rightful owner.

"Draco," he called on his way back to the bedroom they shared.

The blonde was sitting in a comfortable armchair, drinking tea and gazing out the window. He looked over as Harry entered and his eyes lit up.

"I have a present for you," Harry told him, the box carefully hidden behind his back.

"I love presents," he cooed, leaping from his chair and crossing the room to stand in front of Harry. He leaned from side to side trying to see what Harry was hiding.

Harry chuckled and showed him the box, letting it fall into Draco's extended palms. "It's a really lovely box, Harry," Draco mused, turning it over and over.

"The gift is _in_ the box," Harry replied, rolling his eyes.

Draco opened it and his eyes went wide as recognition whispered through their steely depths. "My wand?" he asked tentatively, as if not believing it.

Harry nodded happily. "When we watched the memory of the final battle, I remembered that my own wand had been broken, and I stole yours at the manor. It was your wand that I killed Voldemort with."

"I've had it all this time and forgot, but I remembered last night and thought you may want it back since we don't know where your new one is," Harry continued.

Reaching into the box, Draco wrapped his fingers around the wand and looked it over from every angle. No sound broke through his lips, no emotion registered on his face, and then suddenly he looked over at Harry with shining eyes. "I need a few minutes alone," he whispered.

"I don't – okay," Harry stuttered at last, not understanding this sudden solemn mood, but he hoped that Draco would explain it later. He left the room and shut the door behind him, wondering what had just happened, what he had done wrong.

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Draco twirled the sleek piece of wood over and over in his hands. A shooting pain laced behind his eyes and made him wince. More memories flooded over him as he ran his fingers over the small bit of wood, memories he didn't want to have.

The imperius curse, the poison he slipped into Slughorn's wine, the magical cabinets in the room of requirement, staring down a weak and dying Dumbledore. All these things rushed over him all at once making him feel ill.

These unseemly memories coupled with the snippets of very recent memories that had been worming their way into his mind made him nervous.

He had been terrified to bring them to Harry's attention, but over the last week he would recall things, awful things, things he had done since the war. He remembered a meeting with a man who wanted his help capturing Harry; he remembered agreeing and being pleased about it. He also kept seeing that same list of potion ingredients, which were now imbedded in his mind like a brand, written down and carefully concealed in Harry's own home.

What if he really was intending to hurt the Gryffindor? What if Draco's being there brought his enemy right to him? Worse still, what if Harry had been right and Draco remembered something that would turn him against Harry, even now that he knew him and cared about him, maybe even loved him?

He felt haunted just thinking that there was some memory, some potential trigger lingering under the surface of more warm and fuzzy feelings.

Draco took a deep breath and let it out slowly, trying to remove the painful emotions flooding through him as he put on a carefully blank mask and left the room.

"Is everything alright?" Harry asked as soon as he stepped into the living room.

Draco smiled warmly and kissed Harry on the corner of his mouth. "Everything's fine. I just got a little overwhelmed," he lied smoothly.

Harry kissed him back, letting their bodies mesh together and sighed. "You had me worried there for a minute."

"Nothing to worry about," Draco replied, and hoped to Merlin he was right.

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Authors Note: by request of the brilliant and lovely (and dirty, but we all love it) Laurel, I will be offering Harry and Draco sex toys to all who review! lol. That's right people! I said it!


	17. White Picket Fence

Authors Note: Many thanks to my friend Shannon who ran her beta magic on this fic!

Chapter 17 White Picket Fence

Harry was nervous.

He was nervous about a lot of things, Hermione's new discovery of a Ministry circular saying that they found his location and would be recruiting him back to work soon, nervous about Draco's odd behavior of late, and nervous that Lara was finally on speaking terms with him again, thinking he might muss it up accidentally.

But most of all Harry was nervous to finally see his godson and Andromeda after all these months. Between Harry's insistent moving and Andromeda's hectic schedule, he had scarcely had time to even owl them, let alone arrange a visit, but finally he was settled and refused to move again and wanted to see little Teddy so bad it made his fingers ache from clenching them.

In a way, Teddy was the last real connection to his father, since the deaths of his two best friends, plus he'd always have a mourning spot in his heart for Tonks, who was just so unique you couldn't help but love her.

He imagined at some point Andromeda would want Harry to take over and be Teddy's true godfather, but he assumed they both acknowledged that Harry was a little too young to be a good father just yet, but he wanted to take that first step toward showing Andromeda that he could be responsible.

He whisked around the kitchen conjuring cheese platters and sprucing up the flat as Draco got dressed. When the blonde finally emerged from the bedroom Harry stopped short, his knack for breathing escaping him.

"You look… wow," Harry said.

Draco blushed and spun in a circle, showing off his powder blue sweater and deep gray jeans, which made his arse look even more spectacular than Harry knew it was, which was saying something.

"I have the sexiest boyfriend ever," Harry cooed as he made his way over to place a well deserved kiss on said boyfriends lips.

Cocking a delicate blonde eyebrow, Draco scrutinized Harry's own wardrobe, which was currently plain blue trousers with a ratty gray tee. "I think it's your turn to change."

"I know, I know. I just want this place to be spotless," Harry informed him quickly as he ran to the bedroom and quickly changed into the outfit Draco had picked out of his closet for him to wear. Black jeans with a sage green tee, topped with a black blazer. Harry had laughed at first, but he had to admit that the combination looked good on him.

"So?" he asked as he reemerged into the living room.

Draco kissed him in answer, lingering on his bottom lip for a moment. "Simply stunning."

"What are we telling your aunt?" Harry asked at last. He had been thinking about it since the moment he had made arrangements for Andromeda to visit, but hadn't had the gall to say anything until just then.

"About?" Draco asked, looking nervous.

"Us," Harry replied, equally nervous. "I mean, I'm fine if you want to keep it from her, I mean you haven't told your parents yet, and-"

Draco promptly cut off Harry's babbling with a kiss. "Do you want to tell her?" he asked when they broke apart.

Harry squirmed and looked down at his Italian loafers. "I'm rubbish at lying."

"I know this already," Draco chuckled.

"So I'm not sure what to tell her when she asks why you're here," Harry prodded. He needed it to be Draco's decision either way, it was Draco's family after all.

"Should I leave?" Draco asked.

"No, dammit. Just tell me what you want me to say," Harry pleaded.

Draco sidled up next to Harry and ran his finger along Harry's strong jaw. "Tell her we're in love."

Harry's eyes widened immediately and he had to blink several times before he could answer. "Are we?"

"I can't really speak for you, but-" Draco said, backing up a couple paces.

"Draco, do you love me," Harry asked with a slightly teasing grin.

"I, well, that is to say, I," Draco stammered, making Harry's grin expand.

"I love you, too," Harry said at last, patting Draco on the bum and rushing to set out the plates of food he had conjured.

His heart was beating furiously at the idea of Draco and his near utterance of those words, and he was very certain his cheeks were tinged with red. He'd been thinking it for some time now, his attraction to the former Slytherin had in fact morphed into something intense and he soon realized that it had far surpassed their physical connection, though he had been terrified to broach the subject with Draco before now.

The doorbell rang and Harry's heart started beating faster. He rushed over to answer it, but Draco had beaten him there. "Hello, Aunt," he greeted to a wide-eyed Andromeda.

"Draco, what ever are you doing here?" she asked, stepping into the flat with a young boy on her hip.

"I live here," he told her.

"Oh, yes, your mother mentioned that Harry was helping you with your memory. I had just assumed that he was coming to the Manor," she said.

"I'm mostly better now," Draco assured her. "Just a few more months of memories until I'm all caught up."

"That's wonderful, dear," she cooed. "I'm sure your parents will be thrilled to have you back home."

"I won't be going home," he told her firmly. "I'm staying here with Harry," he added, lacing his fingers together with Harry's and smiling.

"You're not? I don't understand… oh… I see," she replied at last, repositioning Teddy to the other hip. "Do your parents know?"

Draco shook his head. "Not yet, you're the first outside of Harry's friends."

"We have every intention of telling them," Harry added. "We just haven't seen them recently."

"Well, see that you do. I'm not keeping secrets from my sister. Our reunion has been a long time coming and I'll not have it ruined over this, understand?" she asked pointedly.

Both boys nodded in unison and she nodded curtly in return, handing Teddy over to Harry with a smile.

The tiny boy squealed with delight and grabbed fistfuls of Harry's black mane, changing his own mop of hair to match him. "Harry!" Teddy shouted excitedly, and Harry cuddled the boy to his chest.

"I talk about you all the time," Andromeda told him. "I show him pictures and tell him stories about your amazing adventures."

Harry grinned, pleased that Teddy knew him already. A warm contented feeling washed over him as he imagined Tonks and Remus there with all of them. "Hey there, Teddy," he cooed, taking the toddler over to the couch.

They played with Teddy and chatted about what Andromeda had been up to in recent months. Teddy kept bouncing back and forth between the three adults, wanting the attention of everyone at once.

Draco looked ecstatic to have Teddy there, which took a burden off of Harry's chest. He hadn't known how the boy felt about children, and it was good to know that the person he was falling in love with wasn't opposed to them. Once Teddy went to Hogwarts, Harry would probably try and adopt a child of his own, and it would be nice to still have Draco at his side.

He sighed as he watched Draco play with the small boy and he thought of building a life with him. He just wanted to snog him right then and tell him how much he loved him, but for the sake of company refrained.

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The wiry man sitting across from Draco sneered at him, reminding him slightly of his father, though this man hardly carried the good looks and grace of a Malfoy, with his graying hair and pasty complexion marked with acne scars from his youth. "You're to bring him to me, where he'll be secretly tried for treason and sent discreetly to Azkaban to serve an indefinite sentence."

"As I've said, what's in it for me?" Draco repeated. He had taken this appointment on word from Blaise that it would not be a waste of his time, and though the idea of capturing Potter and hanging him out to dry was in itself appealing, it would do him no good in the upcoming trial against his family, nor would it provide him any benefit for his monetary future.

"What would you like? I was told you had a vendetta against the boy hero, I thought seeing Potter fall would be payment enough," the man said.

"Clearly you haven't been thinking at all, or at least haven't had the joy of making a deal with a Malfoy before. Nothing's free, and if you want something out of me, you should think of a better proposal," Draco scoffed, getting up from his chair and moving to leave the small dingy office.

"Wait," the man called, just as Draco had known he would. "Just tell me what you want."

"I want amnesty for myself and my family, and one thousand galleons transferred into my private vault," Draco demanded.

"I can't promise you amnesty," the man scoffed.

"Potter can, what's keeping me from going to him with the information you just told me?" Draco asked haughtily.

The man laughed and leaned back in his chair. "You would never ask Potter for a favor, nor would he help you even if you did."

Draco was about to rebuke both remarks as conjecture, but the man stopped him.

"I can offer you and your family a clean slate in America," he told Draco.

"I'll think about it," Draco replied and left the office.

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Draco woke in a cold sweat, looking around frantically for the wiry man and the dingy office. "Nightmare," he whispered to himself, trying to calm down. But he knew that was a lie, it wasn't a nightmare at all; it was a memory.

He shivered under the breeze generated by the fan overhead and flicked his wand to shut it off. He'd been using magic for everything since he got his wand back; something Harry had been quick to point out. He could tell that Harry was suspicious of something, but he didn't know how close he was to guessing the cause of Draco's recent sporadic behavior.

Every night he was having nightmares about his past, every single night he learned more about himself and his betrayal of the sexy man lying beside him. He wanted to tell Harry all about it, and wanted to hear Harry promise that everything would be okay, and wrap him up in his strong arms and rock him back to sleep.

He knew better though.

After Harry's initial warnings about what his memory might yield and that Draco may feel different about him after they were done and he remembered everything, he couldn't risk Harry thinking that was what was happening.

Because it wasn't, Draco still wanted Harry, more than anything in the world, but he was suddenly realizing that it was more than that. He needed to feel as though he deserved Harry's affection, and at the moment he didn't feel that way.

Was he really going to give Harry up before he lost his memory? He wanted to believe that when he left that office he hadn't come back, but he doubted things had ended there.

Draco slipped out of bed, careful not to wake Harry, and crept into the living room. He stared at the pensieve, an ominous looking object in the moonlight streaming through Harry's windows.

He quickly sifted through the vials his father had brought until finding one labeled July sixth and tipping the memory into the basin and leaning in. There were only three memories from after the war in the box Lucius had given to Harry. He had looked at the first last night and it only told him that he had moved out of the Manor and into a flat not far from Harry's. He planned on checking it, but wasn't sure how to manage that alone just yet.

Blinking his eyes against the harsh brightness, Draco found himself in the Manor garden with his mother and father, a petulant look on his face.

"I will succeed in this, Mother," the memory Draco stated firmly, his voice only slightly raised.

"I do not doubt your capacity to succeed my son, but rather whether or not you have thought out the consequences of your success," she replied.

"You are our son, Draco. We will stand behind whatever decision you make, but we merely ask you not to make the same mistakes I did. Do not blindly follow this man in order to eliminate a childhood grudge," Lucius added.

"I saved Harry for a reason," Narcissa informed him softly. "I feel in my core that he will be important to us one day."

The memory Draco shook his head. "He'll be important to us in that his capture will mean our freedom."

His father sighed and turned away, but his mother handed him a thin leather bound book with gilded script on its face to worn to read its title. "I ask you only to take this, read my notes and only then make your final decision."

Memory Draco must have thought it a fair request because he took the volume and nodded and the memory dissolved, throwing him back into Harry's living room.

Draco retrieved the memory from the pensieve and hid the vial in with the rest of them. He screwed up his eyes and rubbed his temples with his fingers. "I was really going to do it," Draco whispered to himself, thinking of the resolute face his memory self had worn. There was no hint of doubt there, not second thoughts.

"Do what?" Harry asked groggily from the doorway.

"Wake you up, apparently," Draco said with a smile, whirling around to meet his boyfriend's brilliant green gaze.

"Nightmares, again?" Harry asked. It had been the reason Draco gave him when Harry found him on the couch the night before. The truth was he just couldn't bear to lie beside Harry while those memories washed over him and he had snuck out to use the pensieve again.

Draco nodded and Harry came over to wrap his arms around the blonde, pulling him close and running fingers gently through his sleep tangled hair. "I know all about nightmares," Harry assured him and pulled him over to the couch where they rested the night before, Draco tucked deep into Harry's embrace.

"What if it were better that I don't get my memory back?" Draco whispered suddenly.

Harry chuckled, his chest rumbling against Draco's back. "I think it's a little late for that. You've already remembered all but these last few months."

"I know, but what if I should stop, what if I forgot those months on purpose, what if I did something unforgivable," Draco rasped.

"Draco, you can't use a memory charm against yourself… unless of course you were using a faulty wand," he replied, no doubt thinking of Lockhart. "But even if that were the case, I'm sure whoever you needed forgiveness from would give it."

"What if it were you?" Draco asked reluctantly. "What if I did something horrible to you?"

"But you didn't. I'm fine," Harry assured him. "You never gave me a lick of trouble after the war until you turned up in Henry's hospital," he teased.

Draco turned around to meet his boyfriend's eyes, so deep and trusting, and he kissed him, partly because he wanted to feel Harry's lips on his, and partly because he wanted those eyes to shut so that he didn't have to feel so guilty.

"Did you remember something important?" Harry asked when they broke apart. "What brought on this sudden worry?"

"No, nothing like that, just the nightmares," Draco replied, failing to mention that the nightmares and the memories were one and the same.

Harry eventually drifted back to sleep, holding Draco in his arms, but Draco had no such luck. He had too much on his mind to fall back into a blissful memory free slumber.

Authors Note: I'm in the process of packing and moving into my new house, so writing time is starting to lag. I've posted a poll regarding this problem on my yahoo group (which you can find on my profile) and anyone wishing to weigh in can join and add their two cents.


	18. Questions of an Unsettled Mind

Authors Note: Many thanks to my beta Shannon. Yay team awesome!

Chapter 18 Questions of an Unsettled Mind

Draco paced in front of the door to flat number three-sixteen.

It was his own place, the place he rented before he lost his memory, and only three blocks away from Harry's flat, which made him wonder what made him rent this flat instead of something closer to the city center or even closer to London's wizarding district.

The obvious answer was that he rented it to get close to Harry, though careful questioning of his boyfriend that morning revealed that Harry had only just moved into his own flat a few weeks prior to meeting Draco again, so that eliminated the first option.

It wasn't until he watched the final memory that his father left him that everything was cleared up.

He had moved to this flat in order to be close to Lara.

As he paced in front of his own front door he thought about the conversation he got to overhear from his father. The man hadn't even been talking to anyone, but rather created a memory message for Draco to watch.

When he fell into the pensieve all he could see was his father sitting at his study's expansive desk, appearing to look right at him. Lucius gestured to the chair across from his desk and Draco took his seat.

"I imagine you have a lot of questions," Lucius began," and while I can only answer a few of them, I hope the information I can provide will help guide you."

"At this point we have found you completely void of your memory. We've left you in the care of Harry Potter, which is more ironic than I care to comment on at the moment, and I wanted to talk to you about how you may have ended up this way."

Draco sighed and settled in waiting for his father shed some light on his predicament.

"You were bound and determined to take down Potter. You talked of nothing else since the minute the war ended and long before that really. You claimed to hate him, but your mother and I could see that it was much more then that."

"If only you knew," Draco muttered to his memory father.

"At first we ignored it as a childhood obsession, something you would outgrow once you had a career and life filled with other things, but once you were given the task of eliminating him and the means with which to do so, you were an unstoppable force of nature. You ignored our pleas to call off the wizard hunt and you refused to listen to reason, so we gave you the only information we had that might help you, for above all else, you are our son, and a Malfoy."

"I told you about Henry, Lara and Vane," he admitted, and Draco nearly missed his next words from gasping in surprise.

"Yes, I knew of them, and as soon as I told you about them, you set out to stalk the girl, who was the closest in age and proximity to where Harry was presumed to be. You went so far as to move from the manor and into a muggle flat on her street in your pursuit and refused to believe me when I told you that Harry knew nothing of her existence."

Lucius folded his hands over one another and sat quietly at his desk, looking right at Draco, and causing the boy to shiver.

"I'm sure you'll want to know the how's and the why's just as you did the first time we had this discussion," his father noted.

"I knew about her because I killed her mother, and I can only imagine how much more surprised you are by that statement now that you're engaged to her," he added without amusement.

Draco gaped, the fact that he was no longer engaged to her mattered little in lieu of things.

"I didn't actually kill her, in that it was not my wand that delivered the killing curse, but I led the group of Death Eater's to their home, so I am as much responsible for her death as any of them," he added sadly.

"People assumed, as did we at the time, that Voldemort was killing muggle families at random, but he had actually devised a method to locate families that carried a magical signature in their blood and had the ability to produce magical children. Henry's family was obviously one of these and chosen by the Dark Lord as a special vendetta against Potter," Lucius explained.

"As soon as I realized who the people were, I halted the attack, though it was too late for Lara's mother. We erased their memories and left, and I became disenchanted with the Dark Lord's plan. I quickly realized that he didn't care about magic at all, and his real purpose for taking over was to wipe out magic and muggle alike and to make himself the supreme ruler of all," Lucius scoffed. "I could not stand for it, but there was little I could do to prevent Voldemort's slaughter at the time so instead I focused on making sure you remained safe."

Draco hung his head, wondering how he was going to keep yet another secret from his boyfriend. If Harry knew that Lucius played a role in the death of his Aunt, he wouldn't ever speak to him again.

"Still to this day we know nothing of what happened to you the night you went missing. We only got a cryptic message from you to stay inside the manor until you contacted us and that everything went wrong. Perhaps you can devise some meaning from that. Obviously you were unsuccessful in your mission to eliminate Potter, as you are currently staying in his home. I desperately hope your memory loss wasn't a final ruse to get close to Potter, and I hope you no longer carry the severe vendetta against him, but know that your mother and I are here for you no matter what," his father finished and the memory expelled him back into Harry's flat.

Even now Draco couldn't say how his memory loss originated, but he recalled the violent night that Lucius told him of his betrayal of the Dark Lord, he even remembered thinking of it as a betrayal at the time, as if the fact that Lucius refused to kill Harry's family allowed Harry to win the war, which was rubbish of course.

Draco took a deep breath and with a flick of his wand he unlocked the door to his flat, the place he rented in order to take down Harry Potter, his lover, his friend.

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Harry was trying to busy himself, trying to keep from thinking of why Draco ran out in such a hurry. He had made up some flimsy excuse of needing some air, but refused Harry's company, making Harry more suspicious then he wanted to be of his boyfriend.

If it had only been that singular incident Harry might have been able to excuse it away, but coupled with the nightmares, the distant behavior and the fact that he had been using the pensieve without Harry made him nervous.

He knew that Draco was looking at the three post-war Malfoy memories too; because when he checked that morning all three were missing. Not that Draco didn't have a right to look at those memories alone, they were his personal family memories after all, but Harry didn't appreciate that Draco was keeping it a secret from him, he was not the biggest fan of secrets.

So Harry was dusting to keep himself from tailing the blonde.

Part of him still thought it would be wise to follow Draco and find out what he was up to, but he refused to sink to skulking around after his boyfriend, and instead opted to just confront him directly when he got back.

But until then, he dusted.

Once the dusting was finished he began reorganizing the icebox, and once that was done he started on the bookshelves.

He was halfway through cleaning off the towering bookshelf in the bedroom when he found a small scrap of paper with scrolling delicate handwriting he knew to be Draco's. It was an ingredients list, and didn't look like anything they had ever prepared in school. He recognized some of the ingredients from other potions, but never anything that combined them all together.

Thoughts of what it could be for flew through his mind and he wondered why it had been hidden in the bedroom bookshelves of all places. He didn't want to think ill of Draco, but the evidence didn't speak too kindly for a simple and clean explanation and certainly didn't lean toward innocence.

If Draco was going to this extreme to hide things from Harry, he obviously either didn't trust him, which hurt, or was betraying him in some way, which hurt even worse.

He took the list to the fireplace and floo called Hermione at once. She was in the back of the house and it took her a moment to get into Harry's sight.

"Harry, where's the fire?" she asked.

"Hopefully nowhere," Harry muttered. "I'm probably being paranoid, but I think Draco's keeping something from me. Scratch that, I _know_ he's keeping something from me, but I think it might be something bad."

"It wouldn't be terribly unusual for Draco to be having sinister intentions when it comes to you, Harry, but how do you know?" She asked.

"I can't talk about it right now, but if I gave you a list of ingredients, could you tell me what potion they created?" Harry asked hurriedly. He had no idea when Draco would pop back up.

Hermione rolled her eyes and held out her hand. "Of course I can," she huffed and Harry passed the parchment through the fireplace.

She scanned it quickly and looked up with wide eyes. "Harry, these ingredients are meant to mimic death."

"Death?" Harry shouted. "He's trying to kill himself?"

"Harry, calm down. I said they are meant to _mimic_ death, as in pretend," she soothed. "They are used most commonly in second sight potions, putting the drinker in a deep trance but this combination I've never quite seen before. I'll do some research and locate the potion for you," she affirmed and Harry knew that she would. "But when I do I expect a full account of what's going on, understand?"

Harry nodded and smiled at her friends concern and hoped it was unwarranted. "I would expect nothing less," he told her and with a wave he ended the floo call.

He leaned back to sit on the floor and stared up at the ceiling, wishing that Draco would come back so that he could talk to him about everything.

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Draco wandered around the studio flat, wondering how in Merlin's name he could have lived in such an unappealing hole. There wasn't much to it. A bed against the wall, a small stack of books, a row of cupboards that he imagined was supposed to constitute a kitchen.

In the middle of the room was a steel table, with a cauldron surrounded by vials and bags of ingredients.

As he walked over to it he spotted the black book that his mother had given to him, and he flipped it open to the marked page. His mother's tight script surrounded the word 'Echo Potion' and went on to write her opinion on why Draco should use it.

_The echo potion allows the drinker to see past events play out before their eyes like a ghostly play. Easiest to see are the places where an emotional event has taken place, and the stronger the emotion, the easier to revisit. _

_You can seek your charge with this potion, my son, but be careful, as you might not like what you find._

Draco's eyes widened as the memories from his first time reading the potions book flowed over him. He had actually laughed at his mother's note; he had the audacity to believe that he knew all there was to know about Potter, and that the potion would mean nothing to him.

At once he realized that he could use it to find Potter's current whereabouts, and that must have been what his mother had intended. So he began gathering the needed ingredients from various sources and brewed his potion until it was perfect.

He could remember taking the potion to Hogwarts and standing in the Great Hall, the last place he had seen Harry before the chaos took over, but he couldn't remember a single thing afterward.

Draco stared at the empty flat and slipped the potions journal into his coat pocket before leaving, hopefully, for the last time. He'd have to contact his mother to see if she knew who he was renting it from, no doubt she had arranged it for him, and have the owners rent it to someone else.

Even if everything went to hell with Harry, which was looking more and more probable by the second, he couldn't fathom ever wanting to go back to that rat hole of a flat.

It took no imagination to see Harry's eyes brimming with tears at the knowledge of Draco trying to set him up to fall before they met. That was how Draco saw it most of the time; that the first moment Harry saw him in Lara's flat was their first meeting, not that scarring time on the train going to Hogwarts.

He was a different person now, someone who loved Harry not the spoiled brat that wanted only to ruin him, but how much would that matter to Harry?

Harry who already had past trust issues when it came to Draco, Harry who had been burned or left by nearly everyone he had ever loved, Harry who carried the entire world on his shoulder's and wouldn't put it down even to save his own skin. His Harry.

Draco hated lying to him, but he saw no other way. If Harry never knew the truth about what the old Draco had been up to, then perhaps his heart would never have to wonder if Draco was true to him now. He just couldn't risk giving up the one person who stood by him against all odds, the person who gave him back his memory, the person who shared his life, his bed and his heart with a boy who had hardly anything to offer in return.

Couldn't he at least give Harry the peace of mind to know that Draco loved him undeniably? Shouldn't he do that one small thing in return for Harry's many favors? Didn't he owe him that much?

Authors Note: Thanks so much to all of you who have joined my yahoo group and voted for the most recent polls. I think, if all goes well, I might even avoid missing a post!! Earl Gray Tea flavored Draco's for all who review!


	19. No Turning Back

Authors Note: Many thanks to my beta Shannon!

Chapter 19 No Turning Back

Draco stood in the ominous receiving parlor at Malfoy Manor, his hands sweating slightly and his pulse racing.

He knew he should know this place as well as he now knew Harry's flat, but though it looked familiar to him it still _felt _foreign. It didn't have the warm fragrance of sandalwood and vanilla that seemed to follow Harry everywhere he went, and instead of being surrounded by rich woods, musty books and plush comfortable furniture, everything here was sterile polished marble and shiny silver metal.

After taking a deep breath he reached to pull jacket straight and marched across the room to the large double doors that would give him access to the massive sweeping staircase that connected most of the rooms in the manor, and would lead him to his mother's private quarters.

It seemed it was unnecessary though, as his mother met him at the bottom of the gilded staircase with her arms outstretched. "Draco, I wondered when you might come back," she whispered as she pulled Draco against her bosom.

"I'm not back, mother. I just need some answers," he replied, slowly prying himself from his mother's embrace.

She nodded somewhat curtly and started walking up the stairs without a word. Draco always respected how easily his mother could switch from warm and welcoming one moment to icy and business like the next. No doubt that trait helped her a great deal while having the Dark Lord residing in her home. Merlin only knew the types of temper tantrums and mood swings he was prone to.

Draco followed her quietly through a series of corridors, each baring lines of portraits containing his ancestors or gleaming landscapes of properties his ancestors once owned. At one point the Malfoy family owned Stonehenge and Loch Ness was still in their accounts. Draco was set to inherit that among many other ancient properties and items far more valuable than even their entire vault of galleons.

A set of ivory doors, which Draco knew for a fact were actually constructed of solid carved ivory, opened into a demure sitting parlor with several doors leading to his mother's bedchamber, personal library, bath and walk-in closets. Draco took a seat as instructed in a sleek damask armchair across from a rich marble fireplace inset with emerald chips that formed a vine pattern along the mantle.

"I trust you've watched your father's memory," she asked once they had settled.

"I have," he replied. "I've also visited that dreadful flat and read your potions journal," he added.

"I'm not sure there is much else I can offer you then, son," she replied, looking a bit sullen over the fact.

"Do you have any idea what I did with the echo potion?" he asked.

"I know you took it to Hogwarts. The morning you left was the last we saw you before the afternoon at Potter's cousin's meager home," she replied thoughtfully.

Draco sighed. "You realize that Harry has an identical flat?" he asked, slightly perturbed by his mother's materialism. Sure Draco enjoyed a nice luxurious bath now and again, and liked to have a thorough book collection and soft sheets, but he required little else. At least his most recent incarnation did.

His mother raised a delicate eyebrow in question and he shook his head. "You just shouldn't be so rude to those who live below your means, which really mother, includes just about everyone."

"Mr. Potter might actually rival our own wealth and yet he lives in the same building as a woman who makes the salary of a training medical practitioner. The idea of it is curious I must say, but my current curiosity is to hear you refer to the boy you have loathed your entire life by his given name," she replied haughtily.

Draco blushed slightly and shifted in his chair but otherwise stayed mute on the subject.

This did not please Narcissa.

"Draco, have you taken Harry as your lover?" she asked, quite seriously.

He closed his eyes against his mother's penetrating gaze and sighed. "Yes," he answered honestly. "I'm in love with him."

Much to his surprise, his mother only smiled sweetly and nodded. "I told Lucius it was only a matter of time. You'll have to convince him to move into your private quarters, or we can assign him his own if he would like, or we can just renovate yours to make them larger," she began, and Draco wasn't sure if she would have stopped on her own.

"Mother," he interrupted. "We're dating, not married."

"For now," she replied with a knowing smile. "I told you once that I foresaw Harry being an important part of our lives, well this is what I saw."

Draco blanched slightly. He knew his mother's sight was rarely incorrect, but he also knew it could be changed and was by no means a given. Certain events could still sway things, events like Harry finding out he was trying to get him sent to Azkaban before his memory loss.

"None of that will be possible if Harry finds out that I was trying to capture and imprison him," Draco muttered.

"I think you underestimate Harry's ability to forgive," she replied and Draco only shook his head.

"How could anyone forgive that? He'd never trust me again!" Draco howled. If it were the other way around it would be impossible for him to trust Harry's true intentions after news like that.

"He'll never trust you if he finds out your being dishonest with him now," she pointed out wisely, but Draco wasn't ready to hear it yet.

"You really know nothing more about my activities since I took the potion to Hogwarts?" he asked, trying to change the subject.

"Not a thing," she confirmed.

"Can you make sure my lease at that dreadful flat is turned over to someone else?" he asked as a personal favor.

"Consider it done, dear," his mother said with a nod.

Draco got up and hugged his mother then. He was a bit less tense than when he arrived and knowing that Narcissa saw good things for his and Harry's future made him happier.

"Promise you'll talk to Harry about living here," she requested firmly.

"How about we just start with a dinner, mother," Draco replied with soft grin.

"Dinner would be nice. Floo me with which night you'll be over and I'll have your favorite prepared.

"Thanks mother," Draco replied politely and headed for the door. "Tell father I said hello."

"Tell me yourself," boomed the haughty voice of Lucius from the open doorway.

"Father," Draco said with a bow and looked back up to find the older man grinning.

"I hear you are experiencing some turbulence with Potter," his father noted, pulling him back into the room he had just been attempting to exit.

"Not experiencing yet, no, but expecting to soon if I can't figure this mess out," Draco sighed.

"I believe your mother left out the part where Potter stood up for us in front of the Wizengamot," he replied. "It's is very important to our family, and to myself in particular that you do not estrange him from us."

"No pressure, father. Thanks," Draco replied sarcastically and immediately bit his tongue for the act upon seeing his father's stern glare.

"I think only of the wellness and progression of our family, nothing more. I understand your infatuation with him. Your mother and I have always noticed it and we're happy to see it take a… less violent form than before your memory loss. And assuming that Potter feels the same, we must do what we can to keep it that way," Lucius added haughtily.

"We must do what we can _within reason_, Lucius. Harry is meant to belong to this family, and I would see it happen, but not at _any_ cost. Draco needs to be honest with him and allow Harry to choose how he would like to proceed," Narcissa interrupted firmly.

"I'm terrified he'll leave me," Draco admitted. Fear was not typically an emotion he would be permitted to express, but Narcissa only nodded.

"I won't deny that there is a chance that he will leave you, but that chance gets more and more prevalent in my mind the longer you wait to tell him the truth of your initial intentions. He will find out. I can see that clearly. I have yet to see how," she noted, her eyes in a half-closed state as she let her visions pass through her.

Draco nodded, his body filled with dread at the very idea of coming clean to Harry, but he felt he had little choice. Logically truth was the right answer and his mother was rarely wrong about her visions. One look at his father's face showed him that he didn't agree that truth was the right answer but he also knew that his father would never keep anything from his mother, and if Draco wanted his bond with Harry to be the same as that, than he needed to treat Harry as a partner not an employee.

"I have some thinking to do," he said at last, his body feeling like a lead weight. "I should go back to Harry's. He'll be wondering where I am."

"Be safe, son," Lucius told him and clapped him on the back.

"And don't forget about dinner," Narcissa called after him as he left their private quarters and ventured back the way he came.

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Harry wished he had a garden.

He had grown a small garden at his last flat and it always soothed him to prune and cultivate plants into thriving and blooming pieces of art, and he could use the stress reliever.

He wanted desperately for Draco to come back. It had been hours before that he left and now that the flat was shining and spotless, all Harry could think of was his missing lover and he began to worry. He was minutes away from filing a missing wizard report with the Ministry when the door to his flat finally opened and the treacherous blonde stepped in.

"How was the air?" Harry asked, recalling Draco's excuse for leaving from several hours before.

Draco winced and went to sit across from Harry. "I didn't go out for air," he admitted, and Harry let out a breath he hadn't known he was holding.

"You don't say?" Harry replied with a quizzically raised eyebrow.

"I've been getting snippets of my memory back from the months after the war," he told Harry. "And none of them have been good, so I went out to get some answers."

"And you couldn't have just told me that?" Harry asked, staring into his boyfriend's fearful eyes. He wondered what the basis for that fear was, was he afraid of saying too much, afraid he would catch him in a lie, or was it something else.

"To be honest, I'm having a hard time telling you even now," Draco sighed.

Harry rolled his eyes. "It couldn't possibly be that bad."

"I was trying to capture you and have you sent to Azkaban," he muttered, staring at his feet. "I had a flat nearby and I was watching Lara to see if she would lead me to you."

"I didn't even know her then!" Harry shouted. He was trying to contain his anger, but Draco's news was a little too much.

"I know, but I didn't believe that before. I assumed that if I could know about her, than you must," Draco reasoned.

"Do you know how you lost your memory yet?" Harry asked, getting up from the sofa and pacing his living room.

"Not yet," Draco replied sullenly. "I'm sorry, Harry. I really am. I had no idea…" he began but Harry interrupted him with a wave of his hand.

"I know, I know," he grumbled. "I just need to know if any of those feelings are starting to resurface. Please, Draco," he whispered, kneeling in front of his lover and looking him deep in the eyes. "I need to know if you're still here with me, or if any part of you is starting to doubt us."

Draco didn't hesitate for even a second before capturing Harry's lips in a desperate kiss. "I'm here," he replied when they broke apart. "I'm all here and I'm not going anywhere."

Harry searched Draco's eyes and found the truth in them; the truth that Draco's fear was only that Harry might reject him. "Then we can put all this behind us," Harry whispered and kissed Draco again.

"Really? Just like that?" he asked, looking baffled by Harry's easy acceptance.

Harry merely shrugged. "No harm every came of it, and you're mine now," he added with a wink.

"Good, then you can come with me to Hogwarts tomorrow," Draco replied, looking infinitely more relieved.

"What's at Hogwarts?" Harry asked curiously.

"The next part of the puzzle," Draco told him. "Apparently I made a potion and I drank it there, but something must have happened to me there and I need to know what."

Harry hesitated and leaned away slightly. "Maybe we should stop tempting fate," he whispered.

"What does that mean?" Draco asked, his eyebrows knit in confusion.

"It means, what if we should just thank Merlin that we got most of your memory back, all the important stuff, and we're still together," he replied, clutching Draco's hands.

"So… what? You think I should just let it go?" Draco asked, his eye's taking on an angry glint.

"I just think, maybe we should leave well enough alone," Harry countered.

"You'd prefer I spend the rest of my life with a gap in my memory?" he asked, clearly not approving of Harry's suggestion of just that.

"What if that gap holds the key to me losing you? What if you remember the how's and the why's and you decide you can't be with me?" Harry asked. "Is it worth the risk?"

"Is this an ultimatum?" Draco asked, his voice becoming gravelly with his frustration.

Harry sighed and stood up. "Maybe." He didn't know what to do. It seemed pointless to press the issue only to drive Draco away over something that may or may not change Draco's affections. He had just fallen so deeply in love with the new Draco that he was terrified of the old Draco being triggered into reemerging.

Draco shook his head. "So that's it? I was honest with you and still you don't trust me?"

"I love you, Draco. I just don't want to lose you," Harry whispered.

Draco sighed and pulled Harry down into his lap. "It will drive me crazy if I don't solve this mystery."

"It would drive me crazy if I lost you now… after everything," Harry sighed, letting his forehead fall against Draco's.

"You won't lose me," Draco replied firmly. "Come with me tomorrow."

"You're set on this, huh?" he asked.

"Absolutely, please don't make me choose you or my memory, Harry," Draco begged.

"Just for the record, which would you choose?" Harry asked, somewhat playfully, but still curious.

"You," Draco breathed, biting softly into Harry's bottom lip.

"Then I'll come with you tomorrow," Harry promised and chuckled lowly when Draco scooped him up and carried him to the bedroom.

Authors Note: Yes, I know, you'd like to follow them into the bedroom. I wasn't in a particularly smutty mood when I wrote this chapter. Sorry. I'll make it up to you all though at some point I'm sure! lol. Plus I wanted to end it on a sweet note, not a raunchy one. hehe


	20. Answers

Many thanks to my beta Shannon for her work on this chapter.

**Chapter 20 Answers**

A thick soupy fog had settled over the grounds of Hogwarts and the surrounding area, so that when Harry and Draco apparated into Hogsmeade, they could barely see each other in the cloudy mass. They took tea at the Three Broomsticks in hopes that it would soon dissipate, and sat in silence while they sipped at the warm fluid.

It was an awkward silence, and Harry couldn't seem to find a good way to break it. Draco had been fidgeting and on edge all morning, clearly not sure of what he would find at the school and what it would mean when he found whatever it was. Harry didn't envy Draco's position. There couldn't be anything good for him to discover, and yet Harry could also understand the drive to want to remember all that he could.

He sat there and tried to ignore the clearly homophobic man who stared unabashedly at the two of them with disgust written clearly on his face and thought about the night before and how Draco had spilled everything he knew about his parent's memories, his dreams, the apartment and everything else he could think of that Harry might want to know and it was clearly a hard thing for him to be so honest. Harry felt the least he could do in return was not begrudge Draco the opportunity to find out what happened to him.

He, Ron and Hermione were no closer to guessing the cause of Draco's amnesia and he assumed that the reason was both because Draco's attacker was adept at covering their tracks, or that it was probably someone close to Draco that caused it in the first place, such as Narcissa or Lucius. It could have also been that it was a muggle accident that caused the memory loss, such as being hit by a car or if a mugger had hit him over the head, which would have explained Draco being found without any identification.

What kept coming unbidden to his mind, however, was that Draco somehow caused his own memory loss on purpose. He didn't know why that idea plagued him, but it was that whisper of doubt that kept him silent while they drank their tea and waited for the fog to fade.

He trusted that Draco meant every word he said to him before and after they had made love the night before, but he didn't know what would happen if Draco recalled the memories that brought on his memory loss. What if Draco discovered some underlying hatred for him that he had not yet dealt with? What if there was something even more sinister lurking beneath the floorboards of Draco's memory that was harder to get over than his obsession with taking Hero Harry down a notch?

In truth, he still hadn't entirely dealt with that fact.

He had preemptively forgiven Draco for his past mistakes, but the very idea that the boy who shared his bed every night had at any point wanted to see him tried unjustly and sent to rot in Azkaban tugged at his heartstrings in a way nothing else ever had. He loved Draco, trusted him… to a point.

It made him feel filthy to think of it, that some part of him didn't trust his lover, his friend, but it was the truth. Some part of him sat in a dark corner and waited for it all to implode. The issue of Draco's trustworthiness or lack thereof was a part of it, but most of it merely stemmed from his long history of being let down and pulling the short straw destiny had dealt him. Life for Harry had always been a series of challenges far greater than any teen should have to endure, and then when it was finally over he had to contend with the Ministry and then this.

It was hard for him to imagine an end in sight, and even harder to fathom it being possible that he might one day just be able to live a normal life with Draco at his side.

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Harry's lack of verbal communication was starting to wear thin on Draco's nerves. It wasn't as though he was any better, but still it worried him that Harry had nothing to say of their upcoming trek to the castle.

He still didn't know what he would find there or even what he was looking for, and that fact unnerved him more than revisiting the site of the war. The castle was mostly rebuilt, but the fissures where giants or trolls or powerful magic blasts had blown away mortar and stone and left gaping wounds in the school walls could still be seen.

It had been one of the hardest things to witness; the destruction of his beloved school. He had spent much of his time there feeling safe and rather indestructible, and it wasn't until he himself brought in a mass of Death Eaters and he saw the killing blow that Snape had dealt the Headmaster in his sixth year that he realized the school was just as fragile as the people within its walls. Then, as he watched the castle crumble under the weight of the war, his heart began to break.

Voldemort was the root of all his errors and all his troubles.

He had spent his entire life blaming Harry, from the very first story his father told him of the Dark Lord being felled by an infant. He blamed Harry for his father's troubles with the Ministry when he was young, for the fact that they weren't exulted celebrities standing at the side of a powerful wizard and instead being scrutinized by those who opposed him. He blamed Harry for being witless and ignorant of magic and pure blood when he came to Hogwarts, and for rejecting his hand and friendship that first day. He blamed Harry for his natural and impressive Quidditch skills that made his own talent seem ordinary by comparison.

But most of all he blamed Harry for having everything he himself wanted; true friends, fame and the ear of powerful witches and wizards all across the world. He had never once contemplated the fact that Harry might be envious of him for the things he took for granted- like having parents. Family was something he always counted on and rarely thought about, having always had it, but Harry would have done much to have a loving set of parents to go to for comfort or advice.

He felt so distant from the Draco he remembered, as if they weren't the same person at all. As it was, he couldn't imagine ever holding so much animosity for the kind Gryffindor boy who had taken Draco into his home and gave him so much.

An idea came unbidden to his mind then, and it was a prospect that he couldn't seem to disregard once it arrived. Harry deserved better than this, he deserved to be able to live without the worry that his lover would at some point hate him. Harry was worth more than his own memory.

"Let's get out of here," he said at last, setting his teacup down and flinging a couple Knuts to the table for payment.

"The fog's still pretty heavy, Draco. Are you sure you'll be able to find what you need?" he asked.

"I'm not going up to Hogwarts. I'm taking us home and forgetting the whole mess. So what if my memory never returns. Maybe I'll be happier not knowing what I nearly did to you and who if anyone attacked me for it," Draco announced, taking Harry's hand and pulling him from the bench.

"You mean it?" Harry asked, looking confused but a clear glimmer of hope sparkled in his emerald eyes.

"You're more important than these rubbish memories," Draco whispered, pulling Harry into a warm kiss and ignoring the look of open disdain he got from a portly man sitting at the counter.

The crooked grin Harry gave him made the decision completely worth it though, and within minutes they were back at Harry's flat and tearing at each others clothing in a fit to be closer. "I love you," Harry whispered, and Draco knew he would never tire of hearing it.

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Draco woke groggily and reached to pull his lover to him, but after feeling only rumpled blankets he quickly determined that Harry was no longer in bed with him. He opened his eyes slowly and saw that the room was still dark and Harry was nowhere in sight. There was no light peeking from beneath either the door to the bathroom or to the living room and Draco wondered vaguely where his boyfriend had wandered off.

The thick coating of sleep and post-coital bliss still dulled his senses, but he was eventually able to pry himself out of bed and pad over to the bathroom. He knocked softly and got no answer so he gently pushed the door open only to find the room empty. Grabbing his boxers and trousers from the floor he slipped them on and went into the living room.

Everything was still dark and felt more than looked untouched. The icebox hummed in the background to what Draco now realized was a light sense of fear. He left and crossed the hall, knocking loudly on Lara's door and tapping his foot impatiently as he waited for a response. When the door finally opened he backed away a step from the entry.

Ron stood there in matching attire -black trousers and bare chest- and scowled down at him. "What do you want, Malfoy?"

"Is Harry here?" Draco replied, not letting the towering redhead intimidate him.

"Has he broken up with you already?" Ron teased rudely but Draco only narrowed his eyes.

"He wasn't in the flat when I woke up," Draco grumbled. "It's not like him to just leave without a word."

"Maybe he's just feeling restless. He's an adult, Malfoy, and Harry Potter at that. He can take care of himself," Ron offered. "He probably just went for a walk and he'll be back shortly. No need to get all jumpy and ruin everyone else's sleep."

"Right," Draco muttered and walked back to Harry' flat feeling no less worried than before.

He was only sitting on the sofa for a moment when a soft silvery glow filled the room from a corner by the dining room. A jarring thud sounded from the same spot and Draco rushed over to pull Harry to his feet after the boy had been expelled from the pensieve.

"I was so worried about you," Draco hissed, pulling Harry against him in a violent hug.

"It wasn't my intention to worry you. I didn't think you'd wake up so quickly," Harry admitted.

"You could have told me you were sneaking off to look at my memories," Draco chastised with narrowed eyes.

Harry frowned and shook his head. "I wouldn't do that. They were my memories not yours."

"So what were you trying to remember?" Draco asked, pulling his lover over to the couch.

"Do you recall the man who was staring at us at the pub today?" Harry asked carefully.

Draco nodded fervently and grimaced as he thought of the man who had barely looked away from them since the moment they had entered the Three Broomsticks. "He was a nasty lard wasn't he?"

Harry laughed lightly and nodded. "Yes, he was. But more importantly, he was a familiar nasty lard."

"You know him?" Draco asked, surprised that Harry would ever bother to associate with someone so loathsome that they would do nothing but scowl at a happy couple, gay or otherwise.

"No, but I recognized him from somewhere and hadn't realized it until a little while ago. Once I did I couldn't seem to get back to sleep until I confirmed it," Harry corrected.

"So," Draco asked, urging Harry to continue.

"Are you sure you want to know? You seemed adamantly against trying to retrieve the final portion of your memory earlier today," Harry noted with a careful expression.

"Oh, it's about that?" Draco asked, feeling torn. "I suppose if it's important you should tell me."

"He was at the hospital at the same time you were. I rode the lift with him twice, and thought nothing of it, but obviously he's not a muggle and seeing him at the Three Broomsticks was a little too much of a coincidence."

It was then that- like recalling a vivid dream- Draco remembered his encounter with the rotund man the day he lost his memory. He'd never seen him before that day, but it was fairly clear that the man Draco had contracted with in the Ministry had sent him to intimidate Draco. He could still feel the man's fat fingers curled into his robe as he fought to keep his balance in the grungy alleyway.

"Tell us where Potter is," the man demanded.

"No. I changed my mind. I told Grubner that I was out, find another tool to get Potter out of his hiding place," Draco spat.

"Mr. Grubner doesn't take kindly to deal breakers," the man growled, his fowl stench permeating the air. "He sent me here to change your mind."

"I'm not going to. Do whatever you like. I won't betray Potter's whereabouts," Draco replied firmly.

"We'll see about that," the man growled before launching his fist at Draco's face.

"Draco!" the man shouted. "Draco, please, get up!"

It took a moment for Draco to realize he was no longer seeing the memory float in front of him like a Prophet article, but instead for some unknown reason he was laying on the floor of Harry's flat feeling nauseous.

"What happened?" he asked weakly.

"You're eyes just sort of rolled into the back of your head and then you fell," Harry replied, his voice thick with panic.

"I remembered," Draco whispered. "He was the one who beat me and no doubt stole my memory."

"But why?" Harry asked, his hands balling into fists at his side. Draco could see that he wished there was a chance that the man would still be in the pub so that he could repay him for injuring his boyfriend, even if he hadn't been his boyfriend at the time. Harry was sweetly protective that way.

"Grubner sent him when I told him to piss off and that I wasn't going to give away your location," Draco replied with a smile. He was ecstatic that he had come to his senses about Harry before he lost his memory, even if it had gotten him a royal beating. Unfortunately, though, he still didn't know the reasoning for his change of heart.

"Grubner?" Harry asked, looking at Draco quizzically.

"He's the one; he's the wiry Ministry official I met with. He's the one who wants you imprisoned," Draco announced now that the pieces were all coming together.

"That's brilliant, Draco. I'm sure Hermione can have him indicted for what he did, and we'll have an easier time finding others connected to his scheme now that we know who the leader is," Harry noted with a grin.

"That's true, but more importantly I changed my mind about you before I lost my memory," Draco replied, pulling Harry down on top of him.

Harry chuckled and nodded, straddling Draco's waist and placing delicate kisses across the man's bare chest. "You must have already figured out that you loved me," he teased and Draco laughed.

"I must have," he replied, pinching Harry's bum lightly. "You are fairly irresistible."

"So I've been told," Harry boasted mockingly, but then his face fell slightly and confusion clouded his green eyes. "Do you know why you changed your mind?" he asked.

"No idea, but does it matter?" Draco replied.

"I don't know," Harry answered honestly. "But I'm curious."

Draco merely shrugged. "I'm sure it'll come to me the same as everything else has so far. It's only a matter of time now before I have no more blanks to fill in."

Authors Note: I know this chapter has been a long time coming, I think I'm mostly over my writers block with it though


	21. Bars Cannot Hold

Authors Note: Many thanks to my beta Shannon! I know it's been a while since I've updated this one, and I'm afraid this one is rather short. I've been getting some help on working in a new direction and this chapter serves to bridge it together. It's almost finished.

Chapter 21 Bars Cannot Hold

The patrons of the Admiral's Arms kept stealing glances to a table in the back where a motley crew sat in whispered discussion. They had been there for nearly an hour going over Draco's memories and trying to figure out what to do next.

"I'll see what I can do," Hermione noted firmly as she scribbled down the names of the gentleman Harry and Draco told her about. They had summoned her early that morning, but she hadn't been able to pull away from her meeting until lunchtime, so they all arranged to meet at the nearby muggle pub.

Ron and Lara were sitting adjacent to her while Harry and Draco sat across the table from them. Ron was as delightful to eat with as ever; stuffing his face with the contents of his plate as well as any others within reach, while Lara looked on with amusement. Harry had only eaten half of his Sheppard's pie, while Draco dabbed chips in vinegar and then stared at them nervously, as if the wily potato would attack him somehow. Hermione on the other hand finished a light salad and had already shoved it aside in lieu of space for her notebook.

"I think I've seen that Grubner fellow in the building before. He works on one of the lower floors I believe, but I often see him on my floor," she recalled.

"He's probably snooping on you," Ron muttered through a mouthful of Rueben.

"Thanks, Ron. I've already deduced that much. Where did you meet with him, Draco? Can you recall?" she asked, preparing to jot down whatever he said.

"The office had no windows, and it was rather dank," he remembered. "I can't recall coming or going though, so it could've been anywhere."

"Very helpful," Ron muttered, but was promptly cut off with an elbow to the rib courtesy of Lara.

"Stop being rude," she demanded firmly and Ron sheepishly nodded before going back to his sandwich. "So this Grubner, do you think he's behind it all, or just another lowlife following orders from higher up?" she asked, turning her attention back to the group now that her boyfriend was behaving.

"That's what we'll need to figure out. I can't bring this to the Minister until I find out how high up it goes. It'll be easy enough to get Grubner sent away, but if he's only the bottom of the totem pole, it'll alert anyone else involved that we're onto them," Hermione reasoned.

"Which could make them come after us even harder," Draco muttered, rubbing his leg against Harry's under the table. Despite his casual mood the night before, the more and more he thought about what Grubner had wanted to do, the more worried he grew for Harry's safety.

"Or it could make them rush and make a mistake," Harry countered.

"Too risky," Hermione replied. "This could be bigger than all of us, Harry."

"Fine, so what do we do?" he asked, letting his hand fall over Draco's, which was clutching violently at Harry's knee.

"We locate Grubner and his associate and try to see what they know," Hermione stated clearly. "Then, based on what they say we either go to the Minister or we investigate further. Either way though you have to stay out of it, Harry. They can't know where you are."

Harry was about to protest, but Lara interrupted him with a question of her own. "Is it possible that your Minister is involved?"

"Odder things have happened, but I think Kingsley's innocent on this one. He worked pretty closely with Harry during the war, and I don't think he has a reason to want him unjustly imprisoned," Hermione replied.

"So, I'm just supposed to sit around and wait?" Harry demanded, changing the subject altogether. He didn't like their idea one bit, not when it kept him looking over his shoulder and wondering what was going to happen. Harry liked to be in control of his life, not cowering in his flat and hiding from bad guys.

"Yes," the table answered him unanimously.

"That's exactly what you're going to do," Hermione added. "Stay in as much as you can, let us know if you see anything suspicious and don't do anything stupid."

"We'll keep an eye on him, Mione," Lara noted, pointing to her own eyes and then back at Harry.

"I'm not a child," Harry muttered, rolling his eyes at the lot of them. He didn't need a babysitter.

"Why don't you let your friends protect you, Harry? You've already died to save us, let us help _you_ for once," Hermione pleaded.

It wasn't so much Hermione's impromptu speech as it was Draco's fearful eyes that made Harry finally agree, but in the end that was exactly what he did. "Fine," he muttered, making it clear to everyone at the table how much it pained him to give in, but for Draco's peace of mind he could be house bound for a few days. He would just make sure that Draco made the stay worth his while.

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"But Hermione said I need to stay here at the flat," Harry whined, arms crossed firmly over his chest.

"The Manor will be perfectly safe, and you were just complaining this morning how boring it is just sitting around here all day. I promised mother we would come to dinner," Draco told him, trying to pry Harry's arms apart so that he could go back to snuggling him. They had been lounging in bed when Draco brought it up, and suddenly Harry had gone from soft and snuggly to rigid and obstinate.

"What am I supposed to say to your mother? Hi, remember me, that boy you saved in the forest, well now I'm shagging your son," Harry grumbled.

"She already knows we're shagging, Harry," Draco replied, trying to calm him down. It had the opposite effect, however.

"What?" Harry shouted, scrambling out of bed and pulling on a pair of cotton trousers. "What do you mean she already knows? You told her?"

"It's not as though I told her which way you like me to rotate my tongue, or that you're a screamer, Harry. She's a seer after all, she probably knew we were going to be together before we did," Draco explained.

Harry let his face fall into his hands and he looked as if he were trying to remove the skin from it. "I just don't think I can face her! Or your father, Merlin your father is going to Avada me!"

"Harry, stop talking so lowly of my parents. They already like you, you have nothing to worry over," Draco cooed, trying to pull Harry back into bed.

"Already like me? Draco your father has been present several times at my near execution," Harry replied briskly.

"That was all for Voldemort, and now you've killed him, thus making you the most powerful wizard in England. My dad's a highest bidder kind of guy," Draco replied, a twinge of teasing on his lips.

"Highest bidder? What happens when that becomes someone else?" Harry asked bitterly.

"Then we rely on the fact that father always listens to mother and my mother adores you. She's already seen us moving into the Manor with them and getting married," Draco told him.

Harry's mouth went suddenly slack, and no matter what he did, it didn't seem to want to obey him. A cool sense of dread flooded Draco's body as he thought he might have said to much and scared his lover away.

"It's no big deal, Harry," Draco tried to assure him. "I'll tell her I'm not feeling well, we'll reschedule."

"Is that what you want?" Harry asked, his voice a bare and nearly silent whisper.

"I just want to make you happy, Harry. If you're not ready to formally meet my parents as my boyfriend then we'll do it another time," Draco offered.

"No, not dinner. Marriage. Do you want to marry me?" Harry asked, his voice cracking at the end.

"Not right now, obviously," Draco chuckled, then his face turned a bit more serious and he looked intently at his fidgeting boyfriend. "But I love you, Harry, so yes, at some point I could see that in the cards for us. How about you?"

"I-" Harry began, but his mouth snapped shut and all he could do was stare at Draco with dumbfounded eyes.

"Okay, too soon, I get it," Draco muttered, feeling like an arse for bringing it up. He pulled the sheets up to cover himself, feeling exposed and vulnerable under Harry's wide and probing gaze.

With a blur Harry leapt and knocked Draco back to the bed with a rough growl. Draco raised his arms up to prevent the attack until he realized that Harry was showering him with heated passionate kisses. "What-" Draco asked, unsure what to make of this new and slightly neurotic development.

Harry straddled him and placed a deep kiss on his lips before running his fingers through Draco's flaxen hair. "I love you, Draco. I would marry you this very minute."

"But you won't visit my parents?" Draco teased.

"I could be persuaded, I suppose," Harry reasoned, tapping his cheek to get a kiss from his lover.

Draco instantly obliged and purred in his ear. "I can be very persuasive."

"I suspected as much," Harry teased. "But don't you think we should be doing something? I can't just have a civil meal with your parents while all this mess looms over our heads. Is there any other memory you've discovered, anything else that might help?"

Draco sighed and pushed Harry gently off of him. "I knew you wouldn't be able to just stay here with me," he replied glumly. "What if something happens to you?"

"So you do know something else?" Harry asked suspiciously, propping himself up on his elbows while Draco pulled himself out of bed and glared down at his boyfriend.

"No, I just-" he began, unable to meet Harry's eyes. "I just want to know what made me change my mind at the last minute. What did I find that made me refuse Grubner's offer? It's not as if I talked to you right before I lost my memory, right?"

"Right," Harry replied hesitantly. "I think we should go back to Hogwarts," he announced at last.

Draco merely narrowed his eyes. "You wanted no part in that just a few days ago. Why do you want to go now?"

"I've had time to think about it," he replied with an innocent grin, but Draco wasn't fooled.

"Harry James Potter I am not going to let you go off and get yourself killed just because you're bored!" Draco chastised, sounding like an odd combination of Hermione and Lucius. It made Harry cringe slightly but he pressed on.

"This could be the final piece to the puzzle though," Harry offered as if dangling a chocolate frog on a string. "And it's not as though we'll be waltzing through the Ministry. Hogwarts is safe, the safest even, maybe even safer than here," he reasoned.

"Have I ever told you that Gryffindor's are an insufferable bunch?" Draco muttered.

"You might have mentioned it, but I think the theory is weak and unfounded," Harry replied with an air or Ravenclaw seeping through.

"Fine. We'll go to Hogwarts, but if Hermione finds out I'm telling her to put a wand to my head!" Draco replied firmly. "I think we should maybe take the echo potion though, it might give me a better idea as to where to begin."

"How long will it take for you to brew it?" Harry asked, knowing he wouldn't be much help in that particular process.

Draco turned around and rummaged in his nightstand before tossing a small glass vial to Harry. "A Slytherin is always prepared."

"I see," Harry muttered, eyeing the thin blue liquid speculatively. With a deep breath he uncorked it and downed the potion in one gulp before Draco could shout 'Harry wait!'.

"What?" he asked, feeling a little woozy.

Draco merely sighed and shook his head in mild annoyance. "I was going to suggest we wait until we get on the grounds."

"Oh," Harry replied sheepishly, but then his eyes went wide as a misty version of his own body lay nude and sprawled out on the bed beside him. The ghost-like Harry's breathing was coming in short heavy bursts and when he pulled his eyes away from the figment he knew why. A dripping wet Draco was crawling across the bed right toward him and it was all the corporeal Harry could do not to reach out.

"What the hell is going on?" Draco asked, panic tingeing his voice. He worried he might have messed up the potion.

"I see us," Harry whispered. "Our first time together. Damn we're hot."

Draco laughed and drank his own potion as he blinked and waited for the same vision. Sure enough, just as Harry had mentioned, there were the transparent versions of them sweating and moaning on the bed. "Is it wrong that I want to fuck you next to the memory of us fucking?" Draco asked after he was able to catch his breath.

Harry laughed and shook his head. "I hope not, because that's exactly what I'm thinking." His boyfriend began stalking closer, running his hands up Harry's legs.

"This is the best porn ever," Draco groaned and Harry let his head loll back and smiled at his lover's touch.

"How much more of that potion do you have?" Harry asked dreamily.

"Er…" Draco replied and paused, not wanting to stop but knowing where this conversation was leading.

Harry's head snapped up and he pouted. "You don't have anymore do you?" he asked and Draco shook his head. "I guess we better get our hot arses to Hogwarts then," he sighed with a slight grin.

"I'm making more of this potion," Draco resolved before clutching Harry tightly as they apparated directly into Hogsmeade.

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Authors Note: Who wants to take the echo potion in Harry's bedroom?


	22. Regained

Authors Note: Many thanks to my beta Shannon for looking this over for me. This story is coming to a close, there are maybe 2 chapters left.

Chapter 22 Regained

Draco barely had his bearings from the distant apparition when Harry threw him to the ground, his wand drawn as he began scanning the small empty street. Draco's heart skipped with panic as he wondered what Harry had sensed that he could not. It took a moment for the facts to settle in, but as Draco looked on, he began to see the forms of Death Eaters and Hogsmeade villagers dueling all around them.

He yanked sharply on Harry's trouser leg –pulling him roughly to the ground along side him, and began to stand up and brush himself off.

"Draco, stop-" Harry began to protest but Draco merely shook his head and cringed at the about of dirt that flew out of it as he did so.

"It's an echo. We're under the influence of the potion still," he reminded Harry, who looked suitably sheepish for his overreaction.

"Right. Sorry," he muttered but Draco laced his grubby fingers with Harry's and pulled him along, up the path and toward the gate that would lead them onto school grounds.

It was eerily quiet despite the misty battle that raged all around them. Every once in a while they would come across something that wasn't war related at all, and Harry would pause, watching ancient students have lunch under a tree with their friends or involuntarily duck when a ghost-like broom swooped too close to their heads.

They roamed the grounds, Harry letting Draco take the lead for what seemed like hours. Harry knew that wasn't possible however, because they were still under the effects of the potion coursing through their veins. It wasn't until Draco stopped short, causing a daydreaming Harry to run right into him, that he started to suspect the potion was wearing off. They had just passed Hagrid's hut and were nearing the edge of the Forbidden Forest, which looked no less ominous now that they were adults as it did when they were eleven.

"You went this way?" Harry asked suspiciously, eyeing the very path he took on that fateful day he ended the war.

"I think I did," Draco whispered, walking slowly toward the shadowy forest. Harry followed closely, his heart rate speeding as he walked. The area was so familiar –even after all the time that had passed Harry felt as though he recognized every leaf on every tree as they made their trek into the dark.

A flicker of light passed before them and Harry realized with wide eyes that it was him; him and his dead family.

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The Ministry corridor was empty, but that didn't stop Ron from making an arse of himself. He had insisted in accompanying Hermione on her 'covert operation', which he'd happily given the title 'Operation Saving Harry from Evil Death Eaters'. He refused to rename it no matter how many times Hermione called it childish or remarked on the inefficiency of such a long name.

Lara had recently introduced him to the world of muggle television and James Bond movies, which normally Hermione would take no offence to except Ron was pretending they were in one of them. He even wore a tuxedo.

As she watched her friend, and thankfully former boyfriend, raise his hands as if holding a pistol and jump around the corner she rolled her eyes. He'd been doing that at every intersection and no amount of swearing on her part would make him stop. It had been funny the first time, even mildly cute the second and third but after that he simply became and annoying hindrance to an already long night.

"Ron," she hissed for what felt like the hundredth time, but he didn't answer. "Ron," she repeated, this time with narrowed eyes, but he ignored her yet again. "Flaming Lion?" she muttered with unmasked disdain and this time he turned around.

"Yes, bookworm?" he replied and she nearly slugged him. It had been another one of his bright ideas to give them each codenames as well, as if the rest of his act wasn't enough.

"Would you stop it," she shouted, finally having quite enough. "Maybe you should go back to Lara's and role play with her? Then I can focus on saving our friend" she growled.

His face fell instantly and he leaned against the wall. "I want to help Harry too, Mione. I was just trying to lighten the mood," he sulked.

Hermione sighed and nodded, giving into his pout. "Fine. But you're being a distraction. It's late, no one's here and we really need to get into that office."

Ron nodded solemnly and fell into step beside Hermione, his wand at the ready in case anyone else should approach.

After hours of research Hermione found the man from Draco's memories and the deep dungeon office he worked out of. The location fit Draco's description of where they first met, but Hermione hoped they would find something more solid to link Grubner to the case –if they were ever even able to establish a case.

"This is it," she whispered as they came upon a slatted wooden door.

Ron shivered slightly and reached for the knob, but Hermione brushed his hand away. He looked at her curiously as she waved her wand back and forth across the entrance. After the fifth wave a shimmering blue fog tinged the air but Hermione kept waving. By the time she was through no less than ten faint lights hovered in different areas of the door and as he looked on, Hermione cast spell after spell to disband every single one of them.

"What was all that?" Ron asked, gaping in surprise.

"Really, Ron. Don't you ever bother reading a book every now and then? They are very informative," she quipped, but he simply rolled his eyes. "Grubner had put security jinxes on the entryway. He's probably done the same inside, so don't touch anything until I clear the area."

"What would have happened to me?" he asked breathlessly, sudden concern creasing his forehead into a frown.

"Well, for starters you would have shrank a bit," she warned.

"A bit? Well, that's not so bad. I am taller than a lot of my friends," Ron mused.

"Right. That's true. It might be nice to be shorter than everyone for a while. Why at the height that curse would have made you, you'd be nearly to my hips, which is the perfect height for gardening," she replied with a wicked smile.

"Okay, okay. I get your point. What else?" he asked; now more curious than anything.

"How much do you like the color blue?" she asked. "Because all of your skin would have been that color, before it began turning inside out that is."

"Yeesh," Ron balked. "What kind of a loony is this guy? Do I even want to know the other eight things?"

"Let's just say you'd be sufficiently dead and happy for it," she informed him firmly. "Now don't. Touch. Anything," she reminded him and he nodded vigorously.

In all honesty the jinxes on the door would have simply put Ron into a deep slumber and sounded an alarm that the spell caster would surely hear and promptly respond to. She had no doubt that Ron would have ignored her though had she told him that story instead and then he'd set something off on accident inside.

Ever the gentleman, Ron let her enter the office first where she quickly scanned the room for more curses and then waved him inside. Together they inspected desk drawers, filing cabinets, and creaky floorboards –anything they could think of and kept turning up empty handed.

Exhausted Ron collapsed into the swirling leather desk chair and sighed. "We've looked through every dusty bin in this place, Mione. I don't think there's anything here."

"There has to be," Hermione muttered as she continued to sift through a stack of parchments, which turned out to be nothing more than a pile of overdue medical invoices.

"Well, unless there's a safe behind that ballerina portrait, I'd say we're finished here," he added jokingly, and Hermione's head shot up as she stared at the portrait she must have looked at a dozen times but never really _seen_.

"Ron, you're a genius!" she shouted and ran straight over to the odd little portrait. Ron beamed and her and rushed over, expecting her to pull the portrait down so that he could try his safe hacking skills, but instead she simply whispered to the young girl in the painting.

"Sweetie," she cooed. "Do you think you could help me with something?"

The tiny ballerina curtsied and smiled bashfully at Hermione. "I'm not supposed to talk to strangers, but you seem nice," the little girl replied.

"I'm trying to help a friend of mine," she began, pulling out a picture of Harry from her robe pocket. "He's in trouble and I wonder if the man who works here might know something."

The little girl's face grew creased and worn and she frowned deeply. "That Mr. Grubner is a bad man," she whined.

"I know he is. That's why I think you can help us. You see, he's trying to hurt our Harry," she began.

"Harry Potter?" the girl squealed, interrupting her. "Are you really friends with Harry Potter?"

"Yes, Ron and I," she began again and the little girl began jumping up and down with excitement.

"Oh, you're Hermione Granger, and that's Ron Weasley!" she exclaimed and the pair nodded in reply.

"So you'll help us then? Tell us everything you know?" Hermione prodded.

"Of course!" she announced proudly. "Though I don't know much."

"Did you ever here him talking about the other people he works with?" Hermione asked.

"Well, there's a rather short man who comes in a lot," she mused. "His name was Amycus. And a really icky looking witch always comes with him, but she doesn't talk much."

"Sounds like the Carrows," Ron noted and Hermione agreed.

"Anyone else? Anyone who looks like they work here?" Hermione pried.

The girl mulled it over for a moment but eventually shook her head. "There was a blonde boy once, but no other visitors. No one likes to come down here. But he does get a lot of letters from Dolores Umbridge," she added quickly.

"Umbridge!" the pair shouted in unison, causing the small girl to jump.

"She's got to be behind all this. She's had a vendetta against Harry from the beginning!" Ron exclaimed.

"There is a safe behind me where he stores all of her letters," the girl told them and Ron nudged Hermione, who smiled at her brilliant friend. The portrait swung open revealing a small thick steel door and Hermione raised her wand to try a barrage of unlocking spells until the girl called out the password.

Allowing Ron to do the honors, Hermione stepped aside and watched over his shoulder as he selected the three, followed consecutively by the eight, four and one. He spun the dial and yanked the safe door open revealing a stack of hopefully incriminating letters.

"Thank you so much!" Hermione told the girl. "I'll be sure Harry knows that you helped us so much!"

"Oh, do you think he'll come meet me?" she squealed.

"I think we might be able to arrange that," Ron replied while Hermione nodded.

"You'd better go then," the girl whispered. "I won't say a word."

The pair quickly scrambled with their stolen evidence and left the Ministry building as covertly as they could manage.

"Good work, Flaming Lion," Hermione complimented with a wink.

"No too shabby yourself, Bookworm," Ron called back, grinning ear to ear. "Meet at Harry's tomorrow to look all this over?" he asked and Hermione nodded swiftly.

"Lunchtime, alright?" she asked before Ron agreed and they both apparated to their separate flats thinking about what a good team they still made in spite of everything.

---------------------------------------------------

Draco gaped at the sight before him. All at once it felt both foreign and familiar to see Harry standing there talking to people who Draco didn't entirely recognize but could make a guess at. Remus Lupin was obvious, as was Sirius Black, but the other two Draco had never seen before, except in the reflection of his boyfriend.

"Are those your parents?" he asked, but got no answer. He turned to look behind him and found Harry staring sorrowfully at the sight before them. With nimble fingers, Draco reached out and clasped his boyfriend's hand, pulling the boy against him. "We can leave if you want to, Harry," he whispered, but Harry shook his head.

A tiny wet droplet soaked into his shoulder and Draco feathered his hands through Harry's wild mane. "It helped me," Harry rasped through what sounded like a sore throat. "Seeing them helped me for what I had to do next."

"What did you do?" Draco asked, but Harry pulled away, keeping only their hands entwined and followed the specter Harry further into the woods.

It didn't take long for Draco to get an answer to his question, though Harry never spoke again. Soon enough they came upon a clearing and there, among his merry band of Death Eaters was Voldemort himself, sneering across the glade at a helpless boy who didn't even bother to raise his wand and fight back.

"It looks so strange from back here," Harry whispered. "You can't see how badly I was shaking, but I was. I was trembling, not from fear as much as knowing this was the end. I was going to die and I had no idea what would come after that."

"But you didn't" Draco corrected. "You couldn't have."

"I did," Harry rasped. "I fell under his killing curse and it tore the last bit of Voldemort's soul away. It had been trapped inside of me the whole time, keeping him alive, keeping him connected to me."

"So how?' Draco asked, unable to say any more because Voldemort drew his wand and aimed it at Harry's chest. A brilliant green light erupted from the tip of it, and Draco screamed involuntarily as he watched the echo of his boyfriend fall to his knees with vacant eyes and then collapse face first into the dirt. He wanted to rush to the boy's side to see for himself if it was real, but Harry's hand in his own stilled his movements.

Voldemort collapsed as well but only Draco's aunt went to his side, the rest stared between the two in confusion. Draco's mother moved closer to Harry, and at first Draco didn't understand why until Voldemort rose and ordered her to check on the fallen Harry to confirm that the boy was in fact dead.

"She asked me about you," Harry narrated. "She wanted to know if you were okay and I told her that you were. She lied to him for me, well for you really."

Harry turned away then, knowing what would come next and couldn't bear to see the look of distraught on Hagrid's face as he was ordered to carry him from the forest and back toward the school.

After a moment he heard an anguished scream and turned to find Draco on his knees, palms held flat against his temples is if he was trying to flatten his head. He rushed immediately to his boyfriend's side and saw his steely gray eyes had turned milky white. In a panic, Harry shouted his name over and over, trying desperately to get Draco to answer him but the boy seemed caught in a trance.

Harry was near to apparating them both to St. Mungo's when Draco blinked rapidly and fell into the Gryffindor's waiting arms. "Draco?" he whispered.

"I remember it all, Harry. Everything, it's all back," Draco rasped.

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Authors note: I'm going to start asking you to rate my cliffhangers on a five star scale. 5 being uber evil and 1 being barely noticible.. lol


	23. Ten months earlier…

Author's Note: Many thanks to my beta, Shannon who worked on this story for me. We're approaching the end people. One, perhaps two chapters left after this...

Chapter 23 Ten Months Earlier

**Ten months earlier…**

Draco took one last look around his meager flat and apparated directly onto the path between Hogsmeade and Hogwarts' entry gate. He had the stoppered echo potion in hand and looked at it one last time before upending the bitter contents into his mouth. All at once the area filled with images of the war and it took Draco a moment to acclimate himself to the ghostly sights surrounding him. With a deep breath he soldiered on, pushing open the massive wrought iron gates and trying to figure out what to do next. His mother had suggested this as his starting point, though he had no idea why. The massive amounts of people around him –all wavering like a mirage in the heat- got him very easily confused, but just as he was about to give up and try a new method –he spotted him.

Potter, more importantly known as the bane of his entire existence, was walking determinedly from the castle toward the Forbidden Forest, which Draco knew for a fact housed the Dark Lord and his minions. "Is he insane?" Draco whispered to himself. "It's a wonder the idiot wasn't killed just waltzing into enemy territory. He'll be completely outnumbered."

It was surely bizarre, but no amount of whispering to himself like a madman would answer his questions, so Draco broke into a jog in order to catch up with his vapory victim. Harry marched into the woods without looking back even once, while the war waged all around him. People fell and Harry continued to walk away, witches and wizards begged for their lives and Harry ignored them, his eyes focused on the looming tree line. As soon as he broke into it, Potter's determined presence faltered somewhat, as if he was just now realizing his folly.

After a moment the raven-haired wizard paused and pulled a dark stone from his pocket, causing even more confusion to well up inside the stalking blonde at his side. Within seconds Draco jumped back as other people simply materialized around him. A woman with Harry's brilliant green eyes and a man who looked too similar to Potter not to be related stood on either side of the boy, looking down with warm caring eyes. Draco suspected they were Harry's parents even though he knew that was impossible because he knew them to be dead. Sirius Black and Professor Lupin also found there way to the boy's side and each offered encouraging words to the scared looking Gryffindor.

It took a moment for the pieces to fall into place but Draco finally understood what was happening. Potter was sacrificing himself. It took Draco by surprise, but he quickly discarded the seemingly brave notion because clearly the boy didn't die, he lived on even now –a permanent thorn in Draco's side. He only hoped he would get to see the moment that Harry decided to selfishly bring the battle back up to the castle where apparently luck would be on his side and no one else would fall before Potter killed Voldemort.

Potter was a mythology that Draco never bought into and couldn't understand why everyone else did. What was so important about a ragamuffin boy with no family and no true skill to speak of? How could hundreds of wizarding families pin all their hopes and dreams for a safe new world on this quiet, troublemaking boy? And in the end he wouldn't even use his own wand to kill the darkest wizard of their time, he would use Draco's. And who kills someone as powerful as Voldemort with an expelling charm anyhow?

Draco growled his frustration into the forest. The only thing he hated more that people believing that Potter was their savior was that they were right. Even though it occurred in the most ridiculous manner possible, Potter had killed Voldemort as he had been prophesied to do. There was no poetry to it, no bravado, nothing. Just a charm he had learned in first year along side of Draco, and using the other boy's wand no less. Just the image of Potter aiming _his_ hawthorn wand at the man his family had devoted their service to, it still made him cringe with anger.

He'd had a chance to end it all too. He could have given Potter to his Aunt Bella, could have given the entire Golden Trio away, but no. One moment of compassionate indecision stayed his hand. Where he had even learned such an emotion he didn't know, probably rubbed off from his mother who was always too kind for her own good. In that moment, Potter captured and swollen nearly beyond recognition, Draco faltered. He knew those raven curls and piercing green eyes even when no one else knew what prize they had caught. He could have had Potter tortured and killed right then with just a word, but all of a sudden the idea of Potter dying made his heart clench, so he paused… and then he lied. It wasn't the first time he had ever fibbed to his Aunt Bella but it had the gravest consequences.

Draco shook his head, trying to block out his brief moment of charity and pressed ahead, following Potter further into the woods. Soon enough they came across the Death Eater camp, his crazy Aunt Bella fawning all over a regal, if not monstrous looking Voldemort.

Without a second glance, Potter cast aside the stone he'd been carrying, the one that somehow brought back the essence of his family, and the ghostly visages surrounding him began to dissipate one by one leaving Potter alone in the clearing and surrounded by enemies.

Draco rushed over and searched the surrounding ground for the item and found it at once, laying at the base of a tree, and pocketed it for future inspection before looking back toward the ominous standoff behind him.

The exchange between Potter and Voldemort was so quick that Draco barely had time to react to the fact that the Dark Lord's wand had been drawn and a fierce green light erupted from the tip and crashed into Harry's chest. Draco ran, feet thudding harshly on the soft forest floor, to Harry's side and even made to pull the fallen boy into his lap –all before he realized that this had all happened before.

He was dead, that much was clear as Harry sagged to the ground, his mouth slack and his jewel toned eyes entirely vacant. A moment later Draco realized he was muttering to himself. "No, no… this isn't how it happened," Draco groaned, thinking he had somehow altered the way history had played out by tampering with the echo potion. "You can't die, you have to go on and save me," Draco pleaded, realizing for the first time that he was saved. Draco didn't live the cursed life of a Death Eater; he was no longer forced to watch as Voldemort killed innocent people at a whim. He could enjoy a long life free of looming threats all because of Harry Potter. Harry, the boy he had tried to befriend at the start, Harry, the boy who had a captivating personality, Harry, who could care less that every head turned when he walked into the room. The proud, the brave, the true –Gryffindor through and through, but none of that mattered anymore, as he lay sprawled dead on the ground.

The resentment Draco had felt building over the years drained away as quickly as the blood did from Harry's pale face. It seemed uncanny to look upon him this way, unable to reach out and tuck away the lock of hair that had fallen in his face, unable to apologize for having been such a prat, unable to atone for his mistakes so that Harry might somehow look at him with something other than loathing.

The thought that Harry might never look at him again made Draco choke. There would be no more banter, no more arguments, no more duels, not with Harry dead and buried, let alone what the world would be like if Voldemort actually won the war, though one look across the glade showed Draco that the Dark Lord had somehow fallen as well and all but his mother and Hagrid were attending to him.

It was then that Draco noticed his mother moving closer to Harry's limp form. She stood warily over him but her eyes never left Voldemort. When the Dark Lord rose, it startled Draco and he looked back to see Harry gasp sharply for breath. It was subtle and no one was close enough to the boy to notice, but Draco was so happy he felt like dancing. Harry Potter was alive after all. As the closest one to him, Narcissa was chosen to confirm Harry's death, and though he knew it was untrue, his mother shouted back that Harry was in fact dead.

The oaf Hagrid balled like an infant and was forced to tote Harry with them up to the castle, but Draco hung back. He knew what happened next and he didn't need to witness the suddenly heroic method with which Harry would dispatch of his menace.

Hero. Fuck, Draco would do anything to be able to take back that word, but it was the truth and Draco could no longer deny it. Harry had gone into that forest with no one to help him. He had died and come back –he absolutely had to be special.

With a sigh Draco left the forest and apparated back to his hole-in-the-wall flat, cursing himself for being so stupid. He never should have agreed to take Harry down like a bully. Everyone else had known what kind of person Harry was, even his own mother had known that Harry was kind and pure and like no one that Draco had ever come across in Slytherin.

With renewed determination and a firm letter to his parents to remain inside the Manor until he contacted them, Draco left his flat to seek out Harry. He had to warn the man that he was being hunted, but he still didn't know how to find him. His best guess was to continue with his plan of using Harry's cousin, Lara, to find him or at least get a message to him. He was halfway to her building when a chubby hand reached out and grabbed his arm, jerking him into an alleyway.

"Any progress?" a man asked before Draco's eyes could adjust to the sudden darkness.

"Who's asking?" Draco balked. He knew the man must be working for Grubner, but Draco wasn't giving away any information and stalling was his best option at the moment –or so he thought. A moment later a fat fist connected with Draco's jaw, sending him sprawling backward.

"Does that jog your memory?" the man asked brutally. "Our boss paid you for results, so far he's only gotten the run around. Where's Potter?"

"He's safe from the likes of you," Draco spat, noticing blood tinting the spittle that now graced his attackers face.

"The likes of us? Stupid pureblood prat, we're on the same side," the man growled.

"Could have fooled me," Draco hissed, pointing at his injured mouth.

"So do you know where his is or don't you?" the man asked him, ignoring Draco's jab.

"I don't, but even if I did I wouldn't tell you. I was wrong to agree to help Grubner. He'll need to find someone new to enact his revenge," Draco told him firmly.

"What? You can't back out," the enormous man replied with dangerously narrowed eyes.

"Watch me," he replied lightly. "If you try anything I'll have you all drawn up on charges by the Minister directly."

"You'll do no such thing," the man growled, his voice rumbling through the alley.

"Oh?" Draco scoffed. "And why is that?"

"Because you won't get a chance to," the man snarled before his fist connected with Draco's face once more. All Draco could do was plead with whatever power there was to keep him from telling the man about Lara. As his eyes glazed over with pain Draco thought about Harry, and how much he wished he could apologize, how much he wished he had the man's Gryffindor courage to stand up and tell him the truth. All this time he was fascinated with hating the man, Draco was suddenly realizing it was much different.

He was in love with Harry Potter.

"Now, are you ready to cooperate?" the oaf grunted, lifting Draco to his feet and holding him there. Draco's head lobbed to one side and he tried to focus on the man in front of him to no avail. Only Potter's brilliant green eyes filled his vision.

"I'm not telling you anything, and if you kill me the Ministry will have you Kissed before you can say 'Idiot'," Draco spat, wishing the pain in his head would go away.

"That might be true, but you know too much to just be set free," the larger man reasoned.

"We're at a bit of a crossroads then aren't we?" Draco sighed, trying to hold his head aloft.

"How about you take this potion," the man ordered, extending a glass vial filled with swirling red liquid. "And I won't kill you."

"What is it?" Draco asked, knowing by the color that it was a memory potion, he just wanted to see if the man would lie to him.

"It'll take away your memories of this whole affair," the man told him.

"And if I refuse?" Draco asked as haughtily as he could manage with a busted lip.

"Then I'll kill you and make your parents watch before I kill them too," the man snarled, and Draco realized then that the madman might actually be capable of that exact thing.

Doubt fractured his mind into a thousand pieces as he pondered what to do, but apparently he took too long because before he knew it the potion was being poured down his throat. He sputtered and tried to cough the liquid back up, but it was no use, he could already feel his body slipping back to the ground and the rough laugh of his attacker as he left Draco there in the alley.

The last thing Draco could remember is dreaming of those smiling emerald eyes and a falsely whispered word that everything would be okay.

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Author's Note: So it's explained....


	24. Who Ever Thought

Author's Note: and the end to another story has come. Thanks to all who have followed me through this journey... I don't even know how long it's been that I've been working on this one... eight months I think lol. Many thanks to my beta, Shannon and her work on it, and I hope to see you all over at my other stories, I'm down to 3.5 now, not including the one I have yet to start posting (which you should all look for shortly. It's called Forgotten Not Fogiven)

Chapter 24 Who Ever Thought

Harry sat staring at Draco as he recounted the tale of those final days before his memory loss to the small gathered group in Harry's flat. Hermione, Ron and Lara were in rapt attention as well and couldn't seem to look away except to occasionally glance at Harry to check his reaction.

"You sacrificed your life to protect Harry? That's so romantic," Lara sighed when Draco's story drew to a close.

"Well I didn't know that I was sacrificing my _life_ at the time, now did I" Draco muttered.

"Still, that was a brave thing to do when you'd only just figured things out," Hermione agreed with Lara. The girls seemed to be swooning over the story like something out of a romantic movie while the men remained relatively quiet. Ron sat with a scowl on his face from his girlfriend fawning over Draco again and Harry just hunched on the couch, staring off into space.

"Harry?" Draco whispered, suddenly worried his recollection had somehow offended his boyfriend, but Harry continued to stare at his shoes without answering.

"Maybe we should leave you two alone," Hermione suggested as she got up from the couch.

"You never told us what happened to Umbridge," Harry whispered, speaking for the first time since his friends arrived and Draco began recounting his tale.

"Right. Well all is well on that front," Hermione boasted.

"We nabbed her and Kingsley had her sent to Azkaban," Ron interrupted with a grin. Hermione swatted him for stealing the limelight but he didn't care. It was about time he got to play hero for once.

"That's it?" Harry asked.

"Rather anti-climactic," Draco muttered.

"Well, we'll all have to testify in front of the Wizengamot and they still have to round up all the witches and wizards who were loyal to her, but that shouldn't be too tricky now that she's in prison and we have full access to all her files," Hermione added.

"I suppose it's good news," Harry mused, though the look on his face didn't reveal that he actually thought so.

"Did we miss something, Harry?" Hermione asked, looking down at her friend in confusion.

"No, no," Harry murmured, looking up into her chocolate brown eyes. "I'm just… thinking."

"We should go," Lara said and she pulled Ron up with her and began to shove him toward the door.

"Maybe Draco could join you?" Harry asked, and they all looked sideways at his request.

Draco's eyes fell onto his boyfriend's and he stared for a moment, trying to figure out what Harry was doing. "You want me to leave?" he asked carefully.

"Just for a little while. I need to be alone," Harry whispered, breaking Draco's gaze. "It's safe now right?" he asked Hermione and she nodded in return.

Draco reluctantly walked away, following Lara and Ron across the hall but with a pointed look to the other three, Hermione hung back, shutting the door behind them. Harry didn't notice at first, but when Hermione took a seat at the end of the living room he glared at her. "Alone means just me, myself and I, Mione," he lectured.

"What's going on, Harry?" she asked softly. "You should be happy. There are no more threats looming over your head, you and Draco are safe and you can even trust that he's entirely there for you now that he's regained his memory."

"That's just it, Mione. I'm not sure I know how to be this happy. My life doesn't ever go this perfectly, nothing ever just falls into place and I suppose I'm just waiting for the other shoe to drop," Harry grumbled.

"Just because you've run into some bad luck these past-"

"Eighteen years?" Harry finished for her with a snarky look.

"Right, but still, you can't just assume that the rest of your life will be war. Draco loves you, you love him, and no one at the Ministry is hunting you-"

"For now," Harry interjected.

"Would you stop interrupting me?" she hissed.

"Sorry," Harry grumbled. "I _do_ love Draco."

"I know," she replied softly, moving further down the sofa toward him. "You two make a great couple."

The edges of Harry's lips lifted without his permission as he thought of his boyfriend, the man who had turned his entire world upside down with a look. The man who just a day ago told Harry that he wanted to marry him. The man who was standing in the doorway looking hurt and confused and a little bit angry.

Draco?" Harry asked, looking up into the steely gray stare of his lover. "Look, Draco-"

"No, _you_ look, Harry," He demanded, shutting the door firmly behind him. "I don't know what's going on, but whatever it is we can work through it."

"I know," Harry replied, the smile on his face widening.

"We love each other and we can get through anything," Draco continued.

"I know," Harry repeated softly, a chuckle at the back of his throat.

"I'm not letting you go without a fight. I don't care what you say or what you do-"

"Would you just get over here?" Harry demanded, interrupting Draco's rant.

"What?" Draco asked, not understanding Harry's sudden mood shift.

"You. Here. Now," Harry repeated, pointing at his lap.

With a cheeky grin Draco leapt upon his boyfriend and with eager lips Harry pulled him into a heated kiss. "I was so sure this was going to fall apart," Harry admitted when they paused for breath. "I thought that when you got your memory back that something would make you change your mind about us."

"I didn't," Draco replied, pointing out the obvious.

"Did you really discover your feelings for me out in those woods? I mean, I just can't see how a lost boy who thinks he's got to die to save the world would be terribly attractive," he told his boyfriend half-jokingly.

"I've never seen anyone so brave," Draco whispered reverently. "I've never seen anyone stand against him that way, even the people on his side always cowered at his feet. The entire time that monster was in my home I wanted the stand against him as you had in that forest, but I lacked your courage and heart."

"I'm glad for that," Harry whispered. "If you had stood up to him you'd be dead right now. Where would that leave me?"

"Without a brilliant wizard to make you more of that echo potion," Draco replied, waggling his eyebrows suggestively.

"I love you, Draco," Harry whispered against his boyfriend's lips.

"I love you, too," he replied before taking Harry's bottom lip into his teeth and pulling him into another glorious kiss. The boys were too distracted to notice Hermione slip out of the house with a satisfied grin.

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There was no bell to ring, or knocker, or Elvin butler; the giant ivory door simply swung open on its own as they approached the towering marble manor. As soon as their shoes clacked against the stone floor, Narcissa appeared at the top of the stairs and waved daintily down at them.

"I'm so glad you could make it," she cooed before pulling both boys into a tight hug. "I've had the elves prepare your favorite, Draco. I hope you like roast pheasant," she added to Harry as she patted his jaw lightly.

"Er, I can't say that I've had it, but I'm sure it will be lovely," Harry replied, trying to keep the wince from his face at the idea of eating the foreign bird and perhaps not liking it.

"It's just like chicken," Draco whispered in his ear, "only better."

Harry smiled back at his boyfriend and gave his hand a tight squeeze as Draco's mother led them into the dining room. He had to stifle a gasp at the opulence and he could feel Draco's stormy eyes watching him nervously as he took it all in. Everything from the massive dining table to the looming family portraits on the wall; all of it was pristine and looked more expensive than anything Hogwarts had held within its walls. Even the ceilings were decorated with a plaster fleur-de-lis designs paired with a moving painting that made Harry feel as though he were standing beneath the Eiffel Tower.

Each family portrait on the wall seemed to depict a different generation of the Malfoy family, going back to only Merlin knows when. The painting of the Malfoy's Harry knew was on the wall closest to the head of the table Harry smirked as he looked at the younger Malfoy, clearly trying not to fidget beneath his parents pale grip. They were all dressed in slate gray velvet, which made Draco's eyes shine and as the younger portrait version looked up at him a smile formed on his tiny mouth and he seemed to reach out for Harry as if they could touch one another.

Narcissa stood nearly mesmerized by the transaction. "I've never seen him do that before," she whispered.

"Little me likes you," Draco teased beside him and Harry shot him a crooked grin.

Harry paced forward, as if drawn in by the child-like visage of his lover, and placed his hand against that of the young blonde boy. The portrait was probably created shortly before Draco left for Hogwarts that first year and seeing him at that age -the age they first met- brought back a flood of memories.

Draco's hand twitched within his own and Harry looked back at his lover curiously.

"Tickles," Draco informed him, causing them both to smile.

"Fascinating, simply fascinating," boomed a familiar drawl from the entrance. Harry turned around to face Draco's father and bowed slightly at his arrival. "That painting has shown nothing but an obstinate young boy for years, I've never even see it smile before. I'm curious to see how the one in my study would react to Potter's presence here."

"The one in father's study was painted at my graduation, so it's less than a year old," Draco explained in a level tone. "And it's Harry, father," Draco added as an afterthought.

"Of course, I apologize, Harry," Lucius intoned, but Harry simply waved him off. It was odd having the elder Malfoy apologize to him without a thick dose of sarcasm behind the words. Before Harry had an opportunity to respond, however, a pop brought his attention closer to the floor where he spied a large silver tray with legs.

With a start, Harry quickly realized that it was a House Elf carrying a platter and dome that was far larger than its own body and then slowly levitated it higher as Narcissa beckoned everyone to take their seats.

Harry felt incredibly awkward in the midst of Draco's family, but his boyfriend was a calming presence at his side while they waited for the first course to be served. After a moment, a bowl made from sourdough bread was levitated in place directly in front of him. Steam coated his glasses when he removed the tiny bread lid and the aroma of rich melted cheddar attacked his nostrils.

They ate in polite silence until the plate disappeared and fresh green salad took its place. Harry picked at it, pushing the red and purple lettuces around his bowl until Draco gave him a sharp look that seemed to indicate that Harry should eat it and not play with it. Harry tried, but found the leaves to be rather bitter so he left them on the plate while stabbing at tiny round tomatoes and shoveling them into his mouth instead.

"So, Draco, you said you had news for us?" Narcissa asked, her icy blue eyes gleaming in the light from the chandelier overhead.

Draco rolled his eyes and thought of his mother's unusual foresight. "I'm sure it's hardly news to _you_ mother, and if you know then surely father does too, but I thought we should announce it formally."

Narcissa beamed and began shaking in her chair with excitement. "Go on, show us the rings then," she ordered giddily.

Harry and Draco both extended their left hands to show Draco's parents the simple matching bands that adorned their fingers. "We're to be married in the fall," Draco announced with a glowing smile at Harry.

"Splendid," she cooed and leapt from the table to pull Harry up from his chair and into a tight embrace. "You're a welcome addition to our family, Harry."

"Er, thanks," Harry responded with a gasp as his face was pressed against Narcissa's shoulder. When she let go he peered over at Draco's father who gave him a warm smile and a sharp nod, which was probably the best Harry would get from the man for a while.

"Did you talk to Harry about moving into the Manor?" Narcissa asked, addressing her son.

"We discussed it and thought it might be best to wait until after the wedding," Draco replied, squeezing Harry's hand tightly within his own.

"I anticipated that. We should have the ceremony here of course, and that will keep you both out of the way while I work my magic, so to speak," she chirped.

Draco had already warned Harry that his mother would do this but Harry didn't care. He was disinterested in planning an event like that himself and just wanted to get to the part where he got to spend the rest of his life with Draco. With a genuine smile, Harry nodded at all of Narcissa's suggestions for flowers and invitations and followed her dutifully as she led them into the back gardens where she painted a beautiful picture of where the ceremony could be held.

A pristine white gazebo sat on the edge of a pond with a vast grassy lawn beside it that looked as if it were made to hold hundreds of white chairs. Harry smiled at his lover, his fiancé, his life and kissed him softly on the lips. "Who ever thought I'd get my happily-ever-after?" Harry asked and Draco smoothed his thumb across Harry's jaw.

"No one deserves it more than you," he whispered in reply. "Unless we're counting me of course," he added cheekily and Harry smiled, knowing that this beautiful sarcastic boy was his forever.

FIN

Author's Note: Sigh, another end, and yes I'm aware I could continue this on forever and ever but this Harry and Draco have had their story told, now onto the next pair in need of my assistance (or lack thereof. I can be quite mean... they might prefer it if I left them alone...)


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